


Home for Christmas

by skimmingthesurface, SylviaW1991



Series: Mystery Best Friends Side Stories [3]
Category: Gravity Falls, Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Nerds in Love, lots of fluff, pinescone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-05-22 05:53:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 40,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6067597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skimmingthesurface/pseuds/skimmingthesurface, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylviaW1991/pseuds/SylviaW1991
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Winter break is on the west coast this year,<br/>Wirt and Greg visiting Piedmont for some Christmas cheer.<br/>Dipper and Mabel are prepared and they can hardly wait<br/>for the half-brothers to exit their airport gate.<br/>Old traditions will blend and new ones will start,<br/>the feeling of home bright and warm in their hearts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> We intended to post this much earlier, and probably could've gotten this first chapter out in December, but when do things ever go the way we intend them? Still, it may not be Christmas, but we hope you enjoy this little peek inside Piedmont in the aftermath of the Gravity Falls finale.

“Are they here yet?”

“No. Again. For the millionth time.”

Mabel huffed. “Only a million? I'm slipping. Are they here yet?”

“Oh my god.” Dipper didn’t bother to look up from his phone, waiting for an alert that the private jet had landed and, more importantly, his boyfriend's text. It had been two very long weeks since they'd last been together, and Dipper knew from how late their conversations ran that they hadn't been restful ones for either of them.

“Mabel, sweetheart, don't pester your brother. They'll be here when they get here, and asking won't speed that process up.”

“I know. I'm just excited!” Mabel jumped up from the bench the twins and their mother had claimed as their own and twirled. “We’re going to have Christmas with them! It's gonna be so much fun! I can't wait for them to open their presents and we're picking out a tree with them today and-”

“They're here.” Dipper jumped up. They wouldn’t be near them for a few more minutes, but his grin was bright, fingers moving fast as he responded to his boyfriend. “Oh my god, they're here.”

“Surprise!” 

Greg’s voice rang out as he raced around the corner, running right for them past the security checkpoint with a bright smile. Behind him, at a much more sedate pace, but wearing a smile that was no less bright, Wirt appeared with his satchel slung across his chest, arm blessedly free of the cast that had weighed him down the past three weeks. He pocketed his cell phone, lips quirking with amusement as his gaze roved over his boyfriend and felt the device buzz in his pocket. It had taken an immense amount of self control to resist texting him the second they landed, but it was worth it to make their reunion for the twins to be a little shorter than they’d expected it to be. 

“You jerk!” Dipper accused, laughing as he grabbed Greg up before his delighted twin could claim him. “Hey, shortstop. How you been?”

“The spirit of Christmas is upon me!” Greg threw his arms around Dipper’s neck and squeezed him tightly. “Joy to the world, admiral! Or at least joy to us,” he giggled, leaning back to look him in the eye. “How were you? Did you miss us?”

“I'm doing okay, Greg.” He grinned, bouncing him playfully. “And I missed you every day, corporal. That's a rock fact.”

He looked up when his twin rushed by, throwing her arms around Wirt’s neck and bouncing in place. “Oh my gosh! Your cast’s gone and you're here! We’re going to have the _best_ Christmas to ever Christmas, and we're getting a tree!”

Wirt laughed, hugging her back and letting her bounce them to her heart’s content, visibly relaxing in her embrace. “A tree? For Christmas? That does sound like the best.”

Greg poked Dipper's cheek repeatedly for his attention, then motioned for him to lean in close, cupping his hands around his mouth. “He took a nap on the plane, but he’s still not sleeping,” he confided in a whisper, still taking the promise he made to him that summer very seriously, keeping Dipper updated when Wirt wouldn’t. “I think being here will help though.”

Dipper nodded, unable to resist giving the youngest member of their group a nuzzle. He knew from how late their texting conversations ran how little Wirt was sleeping, and had his suspicions that even when Wirt said goodnight, he wasn’t really going to bed. Mostly because Dipper wasn’t sleeping well either. “We'll make sure he has the best winter break we can give him. Mystery Best Friends all the way, right?”

“Yeah.” Greg squeezed him in another tight hug, then focused on the woman behind his second big brother with a big smile and wave. “Hi! Are you Dipper and Mabel’s mom? Nice to meet you! I’m Greg!”

Laura smiled, returning the wave. “I thought you might be. It's nice to meet you.”

“Oh, right!” Mabel looped an arm around Wirt’s, tugging him over. It was an easy enough exchange, Mabel taking Greg into her arms for a tight hug and Dipper pulling Wirt close. “Mom, that's Wirt. He and Dipper will probably start kissing in a minute. Wirt, before Dipper steals your mouth, say hi to our mom.”

“I'm not going to steal his mouth. I'm just, y’know, gonna borrow it,” Dipper defended, stealing a quick kiss because he could. “Hi, Wirt.”

Wirt couldn’t help smiling, eyes bright despite the bags threatening them, though it was on the shy side as his cheeks flushed, what with his boyfriend’s mom standing right there. “Hi, Dipper.” Though he wanted to band his arm around him or hold his hand, he waited until he offered a small wave of his own at Laura Pines. “H-hello, Mrs. Pines. Thank you so much for coming to get us and letting us stay with you.”

“It's not a problem. Your parents have dealt with the twins enough times at this point. Michael and I don't mind sharing the load.”

“Okay, greeting’s done. This is mine now.” Dipper wound his arms around Wirt’s neck and captured his lips. It had been weeks since they'd left them in Massachusetts. Protected as much as possible from a demon who wanted nothing more than to make them suffer if only for the fun of it, but alone. They weren't alone now, and Dipper wanted to remind them both of that as thoroughly as possible. 

Wirt made to protest - they were still standing in front of his mother - but the firm, familiar warmth of Dipper’s lips against his own had him melting into the kiss, pressing back as his fingers curled in his shirt to keep him close. Even though they hadn’t been separated long, it had been one of the hardest, just like the two weeks they’d been separated that summer. They’d needed each other, and they couldn’t have each other.

Heart racing as the kiss shifted into a tight embrace, Wirt savored the bubble of joy that swelled within him at having him again. “Hi,” he murmured again. “Missed your face.”

“Missed yours and all the rest of you too.” Dipper hummed, rubbing their noses together so Wirt’s would scrunch. “I love you.”

It did, a breathless laugh escaping as Wirt indulged him. “I love you, too.”

“And I love you, Mabel!” Greg told her with a grin, then gasped suddenly and tugged on her sweater. “Are we gonna get to see Waddles? I have to tell him I love him, too! And that Jason Funderburker says hi!”

“Absolutely! Waddles is at home with dad, but he's excited to see you.”

“Which he won't be able to do if we stay here,” Laura reminded them. “Come on, kids. Let's get some suitcases.”

Dipper relinquished his hold on his boyfriend with an overly dramatic sigh. “If we have to. I guess.”

“Oh, my poor boyfriend. You have to put up with so much.” Wirt reached up with his newly healed left hand, stroking Dipper’s cheek before tugging the bill of his hat down. His grip remained as he took in the new colors and design of Dipper’s high school baseball cap instead of the faded pine tree he’d come to associate with him. He rubbed the edge of it, appreciating this different design nonetheless, then let it go so he could take his hand instead. 

“I do. It's a real tragedy.” Dipper pushed his cap back, grinning as he laced their fingers together. “Luckily I've got my really cute boyfriend here to make my life better.”

“I’m glad you feel that way,” he quipped, squeezing his hand. “That’s all I want to do.” 

“But we really do need our suitcases. Your Christmas presents are in there,” Greg pointed out matter-of-factly.

Mabel gasped. “To the carousel!”

“Sweetheart, don't shout while people are around,” was her mother's light reprimand.

“To the carousel,” Mabel repeated in a mock whisper, hiking Greg onto her shoulders. “Your Christmas presents are at home, waiting for a tree to-”

“Don't run off ahead, Mabel.”

She stopped from doing just that, bouncing impatiently in place, but didn't break stride otherwise. “Waiting for a beautiful, spectacular tree to wait beneath.”

“Oh boy, I can’t wait to pick out a tree. It’ll be the best tree ever. Do you have lots of ornaments? What do you put on top of the tree? Do you and Dipper fight to the death to decide who gets to decorate the top?” Greg babbled excitedly while their brothers came up behind them.

Mabel laughed. “Dad always puts the angel on top. He says it's the job for the man of the house.”

“Apparently, I'm a dandelion or something,” Dipper mused, shrug accepting. “But it's just tradition. And we each have our own set or ornaments, so we definitely have a ton.”

“Sixteen each after Christmas Eve!”

“You have more than that,” Laura reminded her, herding the quartet towards baggage claim. “You got several your first Christmas.”

“But those are _ours_. They all say ‘twins first Christmas’ and stuff like that.”

Dipper nodded. “So the ones that are ours individually are fifteen each, one every Christmas. Then mom and dad each have sixteen plus the extras they got their first year together. So we have roughly seventy, and we'll add four more Christmas Eve.”

“Six more,” Mabel reminded him.

Dipper huffed. “Yeah, but we were supposed to keep that secret.”

Wirt blinked, just starting to catch up after Dipper rattled off those numbers - he had no idea how many ornaments they had packed away, let alone how many were just his - so Greg was already gasping as he gazed at Mabel in awe by the time Wirt realized what they meant. “You mean you’re both getting _two_ ornaments this year? Neat!”

Or maybe Greg didn’t get it at all. “Greg, I’m not so sure the two extra ornaments are for them,” Wirt told him, glancing at Dipper with a squeeze to his hand, heart skipping a beat at the thought of the two of them getting their own first Christmas ornaments or something of the like. But at the same time... “It’s- are you sure you want us on your tree?”

“I want you everywhere in my life, pilgrim.” Dipper grinned. “Mabel and I spent ages picking them out.”

“We drove dad crazy!” Mabel poked Greg's nose. “It was worth it.”

“Oh boy! Wirt, did you hear that? Our very own ornaments!” Greg laughed, delighted as if he didn’t have his own ornament collection back home.

Wirt reached up to ruffle his hair, smiling back at Dipper as he hoped the ‘driving their dad crazy’ was in the normal, typical dad crazy way. “Yeah, I heard, Greg. I also heard I’m wanted everywhere in my adorable boyfriend’s life, which works right into my plan.”

“What’s that?” Greg asked, honestly curious.

Wirt lifted Dipper's hand to his lips. “To be everywhere in his life. Just like I want him in mine.” It was already too late for that, really. He couldn’t look at a thing in Lakeville without thinking of Dipper Pines.

Dipper’s cheeks pinkened, lips curving. “It's a great plan.” His hand slipped away from Wirt’s to wrap around his waist, keeping him tucked close. “My pretty poetic pilgrim.”

“My very kissable tour guide,” Wirt chuckled, leaning into him. “I hope you’ve got plenty of things to show us in Piedmont while we’re here.”

“We'll see. It’s supposed to be mostly sunny this week, so we should be fine.” They stopped at the carousel, watching suitcases roll across the conveyor belt. They had weeks ahead of them, and he was very much looking forward to them.

\----

Mabel was the first inside the narrow home in Piedmont. Where the Palmer-Whelan home was squat and square with a dark exterior, the Pines home was tall, rectangular, and white but for a splotch of pink under one window that had a perfectly reasonable glitterbomb related excuse.

Mabel flung open the door, the entranceway almost immediately opening into the living room. “Dad! Dad, we got the biggest tree in the entire- dad, are you in your office?!” Finding it empty, she snatched Greg up before going to the stairs to charge up them.

“Mabel, it's not the biggest tree in the entire world!” Dipper called, then huffed. It was big, he'd admit that, but they had a lot of ornaments and a high ceiling. He ran his tongue along his teeth, trying to figure out how they were going to get it up the porch steps and through the door.

“To be fair, it is a pretty big tree,” Wirt laughed, giving voice to Dipper’s thoughts, his and Greg’s suitcases in hand as his gaze roved over the front of the house, taking in his boyfriend’s home with an excited flutter. 

They were together, would have two weeks together, and he was going to get a taste of Dipper’s day-to-day life. Get to really see the place he grew up and… and become part of this life as he had the one in Gravity Falls. Wirt’s smile turned shy as his eyes shifted their gaze to drink in the sight of Dipper instead. “So, got a plan to get it inside?”

“I think so.” Dipper glanced at his boyfriend, smile widening at the sight of Wirt’s. He tugged the suitcase away, greedily taking his hand too. “Let's get your stuff upstairs first, then come back for that.”

“Don’t take too long, Dipper. There’s still quite a bit to do today.”

“Okay, mom.” He gave Wirt’s hands a squeeze, waiting for him to take Greg's suitcase before tugging him inside. “The stairs are kind of narrow, so you'll have to pay attention to them at first. You'll get used to them.” He wanted him to. He wanted Wirt to get used to everything there, to fill up and brighten the part of his life that felt most dim.

“Alright. I’ll try. Don’t be surprised if I trip and fall on my face the first few times.” He held tightly to Dipper’s hand as he let him lead the way, trying to take in what he could of the interior of the Pines’ home. “Am I-? Is- uh… Greg’s staying in Mabel’s room, yeah? And I’m in… yours, right?” He realized he wasn’t sure if they had a guest room or not, worry gripping him suddenly that a house with a second floor could very well have a guest room.

“Yeah. I mean, we've got the guest room downstairs, but I've missed sleeping next to you.” Dipper laced their fingers, grinning over his shoulder. “Dad assumed you and Greg would share it, but Mabel set him straight on that pretty much immediately.”

Wirt visibly relaxed, meeting his gaze with a grateful smile. “Good. I… I missed sleeping next to you, too. But are you sure it’s okay? I don’t want your parents to think… I don’t know.” He shifted his grip on Greg’s suitcase, hefting it up a little more as they reached the landing. “I just don’t want to cause them any trouble. Or get you in trouble or- or anything like that.”

The bland stare Dipper gave him was one normally reserved for Mabel. “Dude, don't worry about it. You're with me. I want you to be with me.” Dipper leaned over to kiss his cheek, finding that he didn't have to bob up as high as he had that summer. He didn't quite know how to feel about that, torn between being pleased by his growth spurt and saddened that it had happened without Wirt around. Growing together but apart. The realization only cemented his desire to keep him close. “Come on. The first door’s our parents’ room, bathroom across from that. Then Mabel's the next door, me across, and dad's office is at the end of the hall.”

Wirt nodded, smiling a little to himself at the very twin-like sets of framed photos that were in the hall. Very matchy, but still very cute as far as Wirt’s opinion went. He set Greg’s suitcase by Mabel’s bedroom door before turning to look at Dipper’s. 

“I know it’s kinda dumb since I’ve already seen parts of your room from your videos and stuff, but… I’m still excited to see it,” he admitted, tone shifting a bit more towards teasing as he bumped their hips together, Dipper’s added height not lost on him. “Though, I don’t know… I might end up in the guest room if you take up too much room on the bed now. We’ll have to make sure we still fit.”

Dipper huffed, sticking his tongue out. “Luckily, my bed isn't as small as yours. But we can still test out how well we fit.” He tugged him across the hall, ready to push open the door when he heard his father's voice.

“-fine tree.”

“It's the best tree,” Mabel assured him, waving at Wirt and Dipper as they emerged from his office.

Wirt squeezed Dipper’s hand, waving back as Greg hopped out into the hall. “Did you guys bring in the tree already?”

“Uh… not- not yet,” Wirt answered. “We brought the suitcases up first.”

“Good thinking, brother o’ mine.”

“Oh, dad, this is Wirt!”

“I gathered that, Mabel.” Michael offered a hand, studying Wirt through square frames. He was as tall as most Pines men tended to be, a trait that seemed to be bypassing Dipper. His and Mabel’s height reflected their mother's. “Hello, Wirt.”

“Hello, Mr. Pines. It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for letting us stay here. We really appreciate it and we’re- we’re very happy to be here.” He’d expressed the same gratitude to their mother, but felt it necessary to convey it to him as well. Especially given what he did know of Dipper’s dad, though he was trying not to have a bias. 

“Well, we're certainly hoping you enjoy your time here. The twins have spent plenty of time preparing.”

“We cleaned.”

“Pssh. _I_ cleaned. You played.”

Mabel giggled. “No, I cleaned and you organized.”

Dipper huffed, ready to correct her again, but, “Don't bicker. Take their things into your rooms even though we have a perfectly serviceable guestroom.”

“They're not guests, daddy. They're family.” Mabel scooped Greg up for a tight hug, rubbing their cheeks together.

“Yeah.” Dipper gave Wirt’s a squeeze. “Come on, man. We'll be down in a minute to help get the tree in.”

“Okay! Me and Mabel will go find the ornaments!” Greg told them, hugging her back.

“Sounds like a plan, Greg.” Wirt watched them head for the stairs, then followed Dipper into his room, heart fluttering as he took in his boyfriend’s bedroom.

Unlike the attic he'd staked a claim to in the Mystery Shack, all the walls were the same color. The faded green hadn't been his choice, but “oh, Dipper, you love nature” had been his mother's deciding vote. He'd given in, and was all too happy to cover as much of it up in boards and shelves. He couldn't have as many in there as he could in Gravity Falls, but two corkboards and a whiteboard still took up a good chunk of one wall and were littered with equations and notes for school rather than notes on the paranormal.

Bookshelves were underneath in cubed shelving that only took up the lower half of the wall. They were packed with books - biographies crammed haphazardly beside well-worn mystery novels and nonfiction works for different sciences. There, too, was a distinct lack of the paranormal and many of the fiction works seemed almost hidden by the nonfiction. At the very least, they were pushed aside to not be quite as noticeable. 

Built into the walls surrounding his double bed - where his more familiar pine tree hat made its place on a bedpost - were indented shelves, littered with trophies and ribbons for science fairs and baseball. His closet door was an almost jarring interruption that was followed by his desk, the home for his laptops and a large desktop computer. Above that was a frame holding a crinkled poem, the first Wirt had ever given him.

“So yeah. This is it.” Dipper rocked back on his heels, hands slipping nervously into his pockets. “Mabel and I used to share it, but when we had to split up, I got to keep this one on a coin toss.”

Wirt nodded, tearing his gaze away from the walls and cork boards to find Dipper’s. He smiled at him, reaching out to wrap his arm around his waist. “I like it. Not quite Gravity Falls, but… there’s still traces of you. I still feel… safe here.” He reached up with his other hand to adjust the bill of his cap, tipping it back enough for him to lean in and press their lips together. “And you were right. Pretty sure that bed will fit us both just fine.”

“That and the bookshelves are the only things I really wanted. Like now that there was only one bed in here, I wanted a bigger one.” He set his ballcap on his desk, reaching up to cup his cheek to steal another kiss. “As soon as we get the tree decorated, we can escape. I want to cuddle with my really cute boyfriend.”

“And I want to give my adorable boyfriend everything he wants, so I think I can arrange that. Though I am looking forward to getting to decorate a tree with you. I… I want to experience all your holiday traditions with you.” Wirt gently toyed with Dipper’s curls at the nape of his neck. “With as much cuddling as we can stomach stuffed in between.”

“All of it. All the cuddling.” Dipper shifted, wrapping his arms around Wirt's neck and rubbing their noses together. “So... how you feeling, pilgrim? You look tired. Still very pretty and very mine, but tired.”

“I’m okay. I’m…” Wirt’s reassuring smile trembled at the corners, the exhaustion he’d been trying to ignore creeping into his eyes. “I’m- I’m tired. Yeah. I know you know I’ve been staying up late, but that’s not all. I just- I can’t sleep. I mean, nothing’s happening and I know I’m safe and protected, but…” It was hard to feel it when the texts stopped coming and the silence of the night made him feel so very alone. “I can’t… I can’t sleep.”

Dipper’s heart ached. Sleep was something he was used to having little of. Late nights reading or studying were normal for him, early mornings a habit thanks to his twin. But Wirt slept. He slept deep and wanted to stay that way as long as possible. It had been that way the majority of the summer, and Dipper hated that it had changed so drastically. His boyfriend needed sleep, he needed to let his mind shut down every night to recuperate. “I've got a couple pretty natural solutions for you to take home. You need sleep, okay?”

Eyes closing, Wirt exhaled heavily and nodded. “I- I know. I’ll… I’ll try harder. I will. And… there are still the sleeping pills Mom got me...” It was a scenario he’d been begging off for the past week, however, with the niggling fear that he’d wind up trapped in one of his own nightmares. “I’d prefer natural stuff, though, yeah. Thanks.” 

Wirt opened his eyes, taking in Dipper’s concern and worked up a stronger smile. “But, hey, you don’t have to worry about that right now. We’ve got all of winter break together. Let’s focus on enjoying that and if the sleep thing becomes an issue then… then we’ll deal with it then. Okay?”

“Yeah. I'm hoping, like... I sleep better with you, so I'm hoping that helps you too.” Except that was only a temporary solution. “If it doesn’t, we'll figure it out.”

“It should.” Wirt toyed with the hem of Dipper’s jacket, fingers playing mindlessly with the fabric. “I mean… it did at Thanksgiving and you’d think it’d be easier now that it’s been a while…” he mused. “And over the summer, when you were there, I didn’t have as many nightmares as I usually do. So you being with me makes a difference.”

“Good.” Or it would be, hopefully. They had the whole break to try and get Wirt on a normal sleep schedule. They had the whole break to spend together. “Come on, pilgrim. Let's go decorate a tree, then we can come up here and you can discover how close I plan to sleep next to you. Extra space doesn't mean I have to use it, right?”

“You better not. I’ll just follow you, clinging and getting all in your space.” Wirt flashed him a grin, then kissed his brow over his bangs. “Have I told you how much I love you yet?”

“Maybe, but I wouldn't mind hearing it again.” Dipper tucked his chin on his shoulder, not really ready to move when his boyfriend was so close. “And again and again and again.”

Wirt smiled, burying his face in his hair so he could breathe him in. “I love you so much. No container could keep it nor key confine it. It cannot be measured in numbers or stars, options too finite to last forever. I love you as much as eternity, limitless, countless, and endless.”

Dipper bit his lip, then thought better of it and kissed Wirt’s neck instead. “I love you too. You’re amazing, Wirt.”

“Dipper! You've had plenty of time to put a suitcase in your room! Let’s go!”

He huffed, kissing his neck again before stepping back. “And dad bellows. Come on, man. Let me introduce you to some of our Christmas traditions.”

Wirt laughed softly, their hands reaching for one another instinctively as they stepped into the hallway. “I can’t wait.”

\----

It took some muscling to get the tree inside, Dipper bearing most of the weight in the middle with Michael at the front and Mabel and Wirt in back. Laura flitted around, “Michael, it seems heavy. Michael, should you set it down for a minute?”

“Mom, it's not like it's going that far.”

“Dipper, don't sass your mother.”

“Oh, he's fine.”

Father and son rolled their eyes and Mabel bit back a giggle. “Prepare for two weeks of this,” she warned quietly.

“Mabel, sweetheart, maybe you should leave this for the boys.”

“I'm fine, Mom! It's not that bad.” She glanced at Wirt, shrugging.

Wirt smiled back, adjusting his hands so he could bear more of the tree’s weight. “It’s okay. I already knew my boyfriend was sassy. I wouldn’t expect anything less from him.”

“Sassy like sassafras,” Greg hummed, sitting with Waddles on the floor as he watched them. “Or sarsaparilla. What do you prefer, Dipper?”

He laughed. “Well, sarsaparilla has a silent R in it for no reason, so let's go with that.”

“Pay attention, Dipper. We need to tip it upwards to get it in the base.”

“I know, I know.”

They all had to adjust, but after a few more “I _know_ , dad” from Dipper, the tree was settled in its base.

“Keep a hold of it.”

Dipper huffed yet another “I know” while his dad crouched to screw the hooks of the base into the trunk. Mabel abandoned the cause to get scissors to cut the twine holding the branches. “Picking out the tree and decorating are the only good parts. We should just cut this part out.”

“I like watering the tree,” Greg chimed in. “That’s a fun part, too.”

Wirt helped Dipper hold it steady, each boy on one side of the tree. While Mabel cut the twine, Wirt peered through the newly freed branches to smile at Dipper, the fresh scent of pine enveloping him with a rush of nostalgia for Christmases past alongside a burst of newness. New memories, new traditions. He wasn’t lying when he said he couldn’t wait. There was a certain romanticism to the holidays and the romantic in him longed to share these moments with the boy he loved. Even if the boy he loved was being a bit of a brat.

Dipper stepped back, taking Wirt’s hand. “Ornament time.”

“Ornaments!” Mabel cheered, gesturing to the three buckets she and Greg had retrieved. “The blue one’s Dipper’s, red’s mine, and our parents share the green. You can help me hang mine, Greg.”

“Sweetheart, some of yours are pretty fragile. I think-”

“Oh, mom, don't worry. Greg is the best helper in the entire world. We'll be fine.”

“I’ll be extra careful, Mrs. Pines. That’s a rock fact.” Greg reached into his pocket and pulled out his rock facts rock to show Laura.

“And if anything breaks, we'll glue it back together!” Grinning, Mabel popped the lid off her bucket. “Let's get this tree decorated, Greg! It's gonna be beautiful.”

Wirt watched them for a moment, just to be sure that Greg stayed true to his word and was careful with the ornaments. He was, the seven-year-old very meticulous and precise in his ornament placement. With a small laugh, Wirt turned to Dipper’s bucket to take a look at the kinds of ornaments his boyfriend had collected over the years. 

“A lot of them just kind of match Mabel’s, especially the older ones. Mom likes themes.” Dipper reached in, unboxing some of them and lining them up on the lid. Mabel tended to unbox and hang all in one, but Dipper liked to see what he had. “Our Grandma on our mom's side got me this one when I joined the baseball team.” He held up a blown glass baseball. “It's lighter than it looks, and I always forget that.”

“Yeah?” Wirt touched it lightly, able to feel how fragile it was, the ornament deceptive in its appearance. “It’s pretty.”

“Did Mabel get a ball of yarn ornament?” Greg asked, looking through her bucket.

Mabel giggled. “No, Dipper got it special for joining the team. I do have a ball of yarn ornament, though! It's attached to a kitty. What'd you get that year, Dipper?”

“A dog on a globe. The theme was round and animals, I guess.”

Laura reached out, ruffling Dipper’s hair despite his automatic wince. “Themes are very important,” she defended. “Does everyone want hot chocolate?”

Mabel was quick to exclaim “Yes!” while hanging up a small mouse in a ballet slipper.

“Yes please!” Greg chirped, plucking out more ornaments to hand her.

“That- that would be great, Mrs. Pines. Thank you.” Wirt couldn’t help the quirk of his lips, waiting until the twins’ mother glanced away before gently fixing Dipper’s hair for him, making sure his bangs were in place. “You like dogs?”

“Yeah. I think we got those when we were five or six, but I like them.”

“We got one when we got our cat, but dad ended up being allergic,” Mabel revealed. “Now we have Waddles!” Hearing his name, the pig oinked and trotted over only to lay right in her path as she went back and forth between bucket and tree. “You little rascal.”

“Waddles!” Greg laughed, flopping on top of the pig to cuddle with him and help be in Mabel’s way. “I like pigs and frogs best, but I also like dogs. How come we don’t have a dog, Wirt?”

“Because we have Jason Funderburker now. I don’t think that frog of ours would be too keen on a dog running around and slobbering on him,” Wirt chuckled. “Not to mention a dog would probably try to use him as a chew toy.”

“Ooh… good point, Wirt.” Greg looked over at Dipper. “I’m sorry you couldn’t keep your dog, Dipper. Maybe someday when you and Wirt are living happily ever after, he’ll let you have one.”

Dipper laughed, shaking his head. He finally rose to hang an ornament, the baseball one from his grandmother, and hung it carefully. “We'll have to see about that, Greg.”

“As long as Wirt names him.”

“Excuse me, you named the cat Judge Kitty Kitty Meow Meow Face-Shwartstein. Rum is a great name compared to that.”

“Except it's short for Theorem, you dork.”

“Oh my gosh, between the three of you, I’d better be the one naming the future pets.” Wirt was grinning, honestly finding the name Theorem to be adorable, if a little dorky. 

“Says the guy who named the frog Jason Funderburker,” Dipper teased, sticking his tongue out. “But you'll see Judge running around here eventually. He likes to hide from strangers.”

“But you won't be strangers long.” Mabel was sure of it.

“Oh, so he’s just like Wirt.” Greg grinned at his brother while Wirt made a face at him, then laughed and hopped up to put another ornament on the tree. “If it takes him a while to come out, can we go on a kitty treasure hunt to try and find him?” he asked.

“I don’t know, Greg.” Wirt rolled his eyes. “If he’s anything like me, then that might make him want to hide more.”

Mabel giggled. “If you sit quietly with treats, he'll come to you. He's a fat cat.”

“Because Mabel feeds him almost as much as she does Waddles.”

“They're growing. They need their food.” Mabel crouched down to rub her pig’s head, beaming. “Oh, he likes to sleep in Dipper’s room. You guys aren't allergic, right? We should've found that out sooner. I have a friend who'll take him.”

Wirt shook his head. “You don’t have to do that. I’m not allergic. And I’m pretty sure Greg isn’t either.”

“Nope! I’ve held many cats in my lifetime.”

“Two old cat,” Dipper reminded her.

“Oh, right. Sorry. Duh.” She waved a hand. “I just want to make sure that you guys have the best Christmas since you're not home and all. I think Greg and I'll go find Judge after we hang our ornaments.”

“It’s already the best Christmas, Mabel!” Greg wrapped his arms around her for a tight hug. “We’re with you. That’s all we need. And some hot chocolate. But other than that, anything else we do will be perfect even if Wirt ended up sneezing the whole time ‘cause of allergies.”

“Which I don’t have,” Wirt pointed out, then his gaze softened as he looked to Mabel. “We really appreciate it, Mabel, but Greg is right on one thing. We’re just happy to be with you.”

“I'm happy, too. Christmas is my absolute favorite. I can't wait to put your presents under the tree and play Christmas songs and movies and- There’s so much to do!”

Dipper laughed, offering Wirt an ornament of a mouse inside a beaker to hang. “And we've got two whole weeks together to do it all.”

“Two whole weeks,” he echoed, taking the cute little ornament as he pressed a kiss to Dipper’s cheek. “We’ll definitely make the most of it.”

“We should watch a Christmas movie every night until Christmas,” Greg suggested. “And um… hm. Most Christmasy things we do also have snow, but you guys don’t get snow here, huh? That’s okay though. We don’t need snowball fights or snowmen or ice skating. We can wrap presents and make Christmas cookies and decorate the Christmas cookies and eat the Christmas cookies and-”

“Slow down, Greg. We can make a list of things we want to do after we finish the tree.” Wirt searched the tree for a good spot to place Dipper’s ornament, picking a branch closer to the top.

“There’s an ice skating rink that we can go to, so we can absolutely do that! It's Dipper’s favorite place.”

His immediate grimace suggested otherwise. “You can skate. I'll eat and hit the arcade.”

Wirt glanced back at him, blinking curiously at the way he brushed it off before shrugging. “We don’t have to. I mean, it’s not like we don’t have places to skate at home.”

“But Wirt, didn’t you say you wanted to skate with Dipper if you could because it’s a romantic, coupley, wintery thing?” Greg placed his hands on his hips, looking utterly puzzled.

“No, I never said that. Why would I say that? I think you’re confused, Greg.”

“Oh.” The younger brother accepted that easily enough. “If you say so.”

Mabel laid a hand on her heart, not fooled for a second. “That sounds so cute! Oh my gosh, Dipper, you have to skate with him!”

He rubbed the back of his neck, toying with a porcelain bell, a nutcracker painted on the side. “I... We could. I mean, I'm really bad at it, but... yeah.”

Wirt crouched down beside him to pluck up another ornament. “No, it’s okay. It really doesn’t matter to me if we do or not. I- we only have two weeks, so we should make the most of them and do things we all like to do. I don’t want to spend it making you do things you don’t like. So, Mabel and Greg can skate and I’ll go with you to the arcade.” His lips quirked up in an amused smile. “Gotta warn you though, I’m pretty bad at most games.”

“He gets all scared and jumpy,” Greg giggled.

“Or you know, the controllers get confusing with all the buttons and stuff,” Wirt amended.

“He’s good at air hockey though! And skeeball.”

“Then we'll do both. If you're a good skater, it just means you have to hold me that much closer.”

Wirt’s cheeks pinkened and it was his turn to rub the back of his neck. “I’m not- I wouldn’t say I’m good, though holding you close sounds pretty tempting.”

Dipper leaned over, nipping at his lip fondly. “Then we're definitely adding the rink to our plans.”

“Woo!” Mabel cheered. “Ice skating is go, Greg!”

“Yes! I’ve never skated without snow before. It’s gonna be the best!” Greg bounced over to Dipper and Wirt, throwing his arms around the former. “Thanks, Dipper!”

With a laugh, Dipper returned the hug. “Anytime, man. We'll try and get as many of your Christmas traditions in this too. It's a blended holiday.”

“I like that idea. It’ll make our Christmas like a milkshake.”

“Perfect,” the twins agreed in unison.

“What other Christmas traditions do you have?” Greg asked, pulling away to help Mabel with more of the ornaments.

The twins exchanged glances. “We usually go to our grandma's house two days before, but we don’t usually stay that long.”

Dipper nodded. “We try to leave before our Uncle Ben shows up. Dad only likes dealing with him once a year. So you might meet some of our family or you might not. It kind of depends.”

“Okay. Yeah, well, we’re up for whatever your family’s plan is. I mean, it’s only fair after you put up with meeting a chunk of our family.” Wirt shrugged. 

“Yeah. It's pretty much all mom's side. Uh. You've met Grunkle Stan and you'll meet Grunkle Ford this year. That's all that's left on the Pines side except Grandpa Shermy. But he's all the way in Jersey, so we basically never see him.”

“He sends Christmas cards!” Mabel beamed. “Do you think mom and daddy would let us go to Gravity Falls at all this break?”

“They got, like, eight feet of snow so probably not.”

Mabel pursed her lips. “I'm still asking.”

“Will Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford come visit for Christmas?” Greg asked. “If we can’t go to Gravity Falls?”

Mabel’s eyes rounded. “I don’t know! We've never asked that before!”

Dipper huffed. “Grunkle Stan closing the Shack? Yeah right.”

“Oh, Dipper, he would for us. We have to ask. We're absolutely asking. Christmas with everyone!”

“Except Uncle Ben. Like, one of the best parts about having Thanksgiving at your house was not seeing him.”

“Oh, Dipper, he's only mean because he can be. I think he might be an evil witch in disguise like your aunt Jan.” Mabel poked Greg's nose.

It scrunched in distaste. “Ew.”

“Why? What’s- what’s so bad about your uncle Ben?” Wirt asked.

“Everything,” was Dipper’s unhelpful response.

“He calls Dipper by his real name and is really awful to our cousin. She has a new name and is on hormones and everything-”

“She's trans,” Dipper explained.

“But he still calls her a him and uses her boy name, and he's _really_ mean to mom and grandma and our aunt.”

“And to Mabel. He's pretty much the worst.”

Wirt frowned, fiddling with one of Dipper’s ornaments. “Yeah, sounds like it.”

“How come he gets invited to things then if he’s so mean to everyone?” Greg asked with a huff.

“Because of grandma. Her only son and stuff like that.” Dipper shrugged. “Like I said, dad can only deal with him once a year and that's Thanksgiving.”

Mabel nodded. “It's okay. I think everybody has an Aunt Jan or an Uncle Ben in their family. He'd probably ignore you guys anyway. He's fine with boys.”

Wirt simply hummed, nodding a little in agreement about the aunt or uncle thing. There was always one relative that stood out among the rest. Unless one considered his dad’s side of the family. They were all pretty bad apples aside from his aunt.

“It’s okay, we’d ignore him, too, unless he was being super mean and then I might have to swoop in to the rescue,” Greg told them as he placed another ornament on a low branch.

Mabel giggled, dropping down to nuzzle him. “You’re a great big hero, Greg.”

“I try,” he conceded with his own laugh. “Wirt’s a hero, too, but he’s more a secret hero. And you’re a hero, Mabel. And Dipper. Mystery Best Friends should always save the day.”

“Absolutely!” She picked him up, careful of the ornaments as she was with little else, and twirled him happily. “Mystery Best Friends are the greatest heroes ever!”

Dipper laughed, tugging Wirt close for a kiss. “They're right for once.”

“We're always right.”

“And their streak has ended,” Wirt chuckled, leaning against Dipper, head coming to rest on his shoulder. 

Dipper wrapped an arm around his waist, kissing the top of his head. “I'm really glad you’re here,” he murmured. “You’re all I want for Christmas.”

Wirt hummed, lips quirking up as he rubbed his cheek to his shoulder. “You’re all I wanted, too. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. I love you.”

“I love you too, pilgrim.” Dipper gave him a squeeze, content to hold him and watch their siblings decorate the tree until his parents returned with hot chocolate and reminders not to clump all the ornaments together in one area. It was a pretty good start in his opinion.

\----

It was raining. Again. The first three days of winter break had been an endless torrent of cloudy skies and drizzles. Definitely not the snow the two New England boys were used to seeing this time of year, and a little frustrating for the twins who wanted to show them more of their hometown than the inside of their home.

Being sixteen, they were still all too young to drive on their own so packing up and going where there wasn’t ceaseless rain was out of the question, Dipper’s very cautious attempt to suggest letting them go to Gravity Falls for the lengthy break from school shot down before the question could be fully formed. And so they were trapped in Piedmont, struggling to come up with something more exciting than the puzzle currently taking up the majority of the kitchen table.

Until their mom offered them a ride to the mall so she could get some last-minute Christmas shopping in. It was an absolute relief to have somewhere to go until, of course, they were actually there.

It wasn’t an immediate realization, but a steady wearing down and it started almost immediately. The rain and time of year had driven teenagers to the mall in droves and Mabel was very popular. They couldn’t go into a single store without someone calling out to her, but Dipper went uncalled and largely unnoticed. Twice, Mabel had to point him out when friends wanted her to come hang out.

Dipper’s embarrassment over the entire situation only grew. 

Wirt’s confusion grew alongside it, until it reached its pinnacle and a realization gave way to a steady flow of understanding. Dipper never talked about his friends. There were mentions of the literary club he was in at lunch, the baseball team, Mabel’s friends, Soos and Wendy, but never a specific friend. Never a night out at the arcade with his buddies or catching a movie with someone who wasn’t Mabel or just hanging out at home with a best friend. 

The more people had to be reminded to acknowledge Dipper, the more the heart-breaking notion was cemented in Wirt’s mind. The Mystery Best Friends weren’t just Dipper’s best friends, they were his only friends. His boyfriend - his sweet, funny, smart, total package of a boyfriend - didn’t have any friends in his hometown. 

Not one for socializing that often or hanging out in big groups on a frequent basis, Wirt wouldn’t have thought it such a big deal, but he could see how much it bothered his boyfriend. Not usually one to be shy, he became rather quiet and withdrawn as Mabel shone amongst their peers. It reminded Wirt of the vision Bill had shown him, the memory of the peppy little girl and the little boy who cried and shivered when his hat was taken away. The little boy who was pushed to the ground, held down, and had permanent marker smeared over his face in gross mockery of a very special birthmark that he had no control over. The little boy who hurt himself trying to wash it off with hot, hot water. 

Dipper didn’t trust easily, Wirt knew that was part of it, and he couldn’t exactly blame him after spending part of his childhood being bullied, but to not have his own group of friends when his boyfriend was so eager to share discoveries and babble theories to people who’d listen just didn’t seem like him. It didn’t seem right. It didn’t seem fair. 

It didn’t help that even Greg seemed to notice that no one said hi to Dipper first. “Where are Dipper’s friends?” Greg hung back to ask him quietly, out of earshot from both twins. 

Wirt had to swallow thickly, well-aware that his little brother and his boyfriend shared many of the same qualities, including being bullied and teased. He reached out and ruffled Greg’s hair. “Right here. We’re his friends, aren’t we?” he’d attempted to play off, flashing Greg a smile that seemed to put the seven-almost-eight-year-old’s mind at ease for the time being. 

The next time a group of people called out to Mabel though, Wirt snagged Dipper’s hand and tugged him to a little alcove between stores behind a large faux-plant fixture. He pressed him to the wall, hesitant and not at all firm, appearing so out of his element as his cheeks flushed and nerves lined his eyes, then cupped Dipper’s cheek with a gentleness that was more him and sealed their lips together, bestowing all his attention on him. He mattered to him. The boy who pulled him out of nightmares. He was important to him. If no one else cherished him, then Wirt would make up for it tenfold. 

Dipper had been ready to start babbling some semi-reasonable excuse as to why he'd been so easily relegated to the background that afternoon. Anything to make himself seem like less of a pathetic, lonely loser. The kiss stole the words away, soothing the wounds hovering so close to the surface as he was ignored time and again. He drank in the attention, the affection it was filled with, and pulled his boyfriend impossibly closer. He didn’t need to matter to many as long as he mattered to one, as long as he mattered to Wirt.

As the kiss broke to grant them both air, Dipper rubbed their noses together oh so gently. His lips followed, kisses trailing over his cheeks. “Mm... What was that for?”

“For just being my adorable, amazing boyfriend.” Wirt let his eyes close, enjoying the attention. “And because I can. I’ve gotta take advantage of having you close enough to kiss while I can, right?” 

“Can't argue with that.” He grinned, his first real one in well over an hour, and captured Wirt's lips again. “I definitely like being close enough for you to kiss.” Close enough to serve as a reminder that he wasn't totally pathetic. Not so long as he had his boyfriend, his twin, and his fellow younger sibling. He had friends. Just because there wasn't really anyone there for him.in Piedmont, didn't mean he had no one anywhere.

“Mmhm… there are definitely perks to being on the same side of the continent.” Wirt smiled against his lips, words brushing against them as he prolonged ending the kiss. “I’ve missed you so much, you know? There’s nowhere else I want to be right now.”

“Me either.” Dipper stroked his sides, hands soon settling at his waist. “So... you don't think I'm a total loser?”

“Not totally.” Wirt nudged their foreheads together with a grin that quickly softened. “No, of course not. Why on earth would I ever think you were a loser? You’re my boyfriend. My smart, handsome, compassionate boyfriend that I love very much. None of that equates to anything remotely close to a loser in my book.”

“Okay. That’s-” His smile returned, Dipper steadily relaxing. “I love you too. Come on. Let’s go before Mabel steals Greg away and we lose them.”

“If we do, we can go to mall security and put out an alert for them. Or, you know, go to the nearest ice cream shop. Despite the fact that it’s winter, nothing will stand between Greg and his ice cream,” Wirt huffed out a laugh, taking Dipper’s hand in his own and lacing their fingers. “Hey, but… are you okay? I mean… I’m sure Mabel and Greg wouldn’t mind if we went and found a place to sit in the food court or something for a while.”

Dipper ducked his head, gaze falling to their hands. “I'm fine. The music store’s around here, and I'd rather stop in there before going all the way to the food court.”

“Alright. We can do that.” Wirt squeezed his hand, then guided him out to rejoin Mabel and Greg.

“There you are.” Mabel grinned. “We were starting to wonder if we needed to start chanting in bad Latin so you could come out and correct us.”

Feeling far better with Wirt being his sweet, understanding self, Dipper rolled his eyes. “You don’t even know Latin.”

“Exactly!”

“Maybe you should start speaking in Latin to educate us,” Wirt suggested with a grin. “I mean, I spoke French for you so it’s only fair.”

Dipper huffed, but kissed his cheek. “Ille me amplexus atque osculans flere prohibebat. There. French is hotter.”

“Nah. I don’t get to hear French in your voice.” Wirt bumped their hips together. “Your voice automatically makes everything hotter.”

Mabel giggled. “Ob-waffle are being dorks, Greg.”

Dipper ignored her, lifting Wirt’s hand to his lips. “Da mi basia mille, dein mille altera, dein secunda centum.”

“I don’t know what you’re saying, but it’s giving me butterflies,” Wirt admitted, huffing out a breathy, little laugh as he fought not to blush. His fingers curled around Dipper’s hand as he leaned in to peck his cheek. “Lumière de ma vie.”

“I think I can figure that one out. Thanks to Mabel and her Disney obsession.”

“You’re welcome.”

He glanced at her, then cupped Wirt’s cheeks to rub their noses together. “You’re the light of my life too. Want to know what I said?”

“Only if it was something romantic. If it was just a nursery rhyme or your grocery list, then make something up so I can keep living on my fantasy world.” Wirt let his eyes close as he nuzzled back, smile bright as it spread across his lips.

“I don't know if romantic’s the right word, but it's greedy. Greedy for you.” Dipper brushed their lips together. “Give me a thousand kisses, then another hundred, then another thousand, then a hundred more.”

Wirt let his laugh spill into the kiss even as his heart fluttered. “You are greedy. Good thing I have kisses to spare when it comes to you.” His lips pressed firmly against Dipper’s in an attempt to satisfy his boyfriend’s apparent need, then pulled away with a grin and flushed cheeks. “I probably didn’t even have to get you a Christmas present, huh? I could’ve just given you kisses.”

“You mean you weren't going to give me kisses anyway?” His eyes rounded in mock horror. “I'm shocked, man. Totally shocked that you'd deprive me like that.”

Wirt rubbed their noses together as he pinched his side playfully. “What kind of boyfriend do you take me for? That’s not what I meant. I just meant that I could’ve saved some money by not buying you a present. Since you’re so happy with kisses. Pfft. Deprived.” His lips brushed the tip of his nose. “One would think you’d have gotten sick of all this kissing by now.”

“There’s no such thing as being tired of your kisses.”

“Oh my gosh, you guys are cute but you’re kissing in the middle of the mall. Let's move!”

Dipper laughed, pressing even closer to his boyfriend. “Okay, I moved.”

“Dipper, you’re going to throw off my balance,” Wirt protested with a breathy laugh of his own, though his cheeks flushed at the reminder that they were out in the open, subject to the stares of strangers. 

Though, given Dipper’s day, Wirt really didn’t want to feel them creeping and crawling under his skin, just wanting to be a supportive boyfriend who could kiss and love Dipper in public freely and give him all the attention he didn’t receive from his peers. After all, it shouldn’t matter what strangers thought of him, he’d never see them again. The only thing that mattered was what Dipper thought of him.

He squeezed Dipper’s hand and let him stay close. “What about moving in the direction of the music store?”

“Music store!” Greg perked up “I want to go to a music store!”

“Okay, okay. I did want to look for some CDs and maybe bring Wirt into this century,” Dipper teased, stepping back.

Mabel gasped. “We can find Grunkle Stan a new record!”

Greg nodded in agreement while his older brother puffed out his cheeks in indignation. “ _That’s_ why you want to go to the music store? I know some songs from this century, thank you very much,” he huffed. “Like- um… that one that’s really popular by that one guy. The downtown funk song. That’s a thing people listened to, I think. Um. And I know others, they’re just not- not coming to mind right now.”

“It’s ‘Uptown Funk,’ and I love you, but you need a musical education.” Dipper laced their fingers, tugging him along. “If you like that song, I even know where to start.”

“Oh, um, I don’t really? But Sara does- or did. I just heard it around school a lot. And she’d play it to keep me awake back when I- you know, wasn’t sleeping.” Technically he still wasn’t sleeping. “But I’m open to whatever you have in mind.” Wirt nearly stumbled his own feet as he hurried to keep up.

“Wirt, how do you not like that song?” Mabel protested. “Everybody loves that song!”

“It takes a few listens before it fully seeps in and stays in your brain the rest of your life. But it's catchy.” Dipper shrugged, more forgiving to a small degree. “I'm still sticking with the original plan. The guy sounds throwback enough that you might like it.”

“Okay. And I mean, the music itself is pretty okay. The lyrics are just kinda… eh.” Wirt made a so-so gesture with his hand as he glanced helplessly between Mabel and Dipper.

“I agree with you, Wirt. As a lyrics master myself, I see where you’re coming from,” Greg piped up, ready to defend his brother with all the optimism and insight of a seven-year-old.

Wirt smiled down at him, more amused than anything. “Thanks, Greg. But, yeah, I trust you, Dipper. I’m interested to hear whatever it is. I mean, I’m always willing to give something a couple listens.”

“I can't believe a poet isn't pleased by the brilliance of being hot enough to make a dragon want to retire.”

Dipper laughed, spirits so much higher than they'd been just a few minutes before. “Ignore her, man. Let's go see if you like Olly more than Bruno.”

“Who more than what?”

“Just trust me.” Dipper pulled him into the store, easily his favorite in the entire mall. It was a mix of new and pre-owned music, old records stacked beside CDs promising digital download codes. Cassette tapes lined the entire back wall, and Dipper steered his boyfriend towards them. “Here. There’s a place to listen to music to make sure the discs and stuff work in the back. Let me grab a couple things and I'll be back for you in second.”

“Oh. Um. Okay.” Wirt eyed the cassette tapes with interest, but couldn’t help fidgeting as his boyfriend left his side. “I’ll… I’ll be here,” he assured him, scuffing his shoes against the floor before picking up a random tape to look at it, then quickly set it back and scanned the artists for someone he actually knew..

“And I’ll be over there!” Greg tugged on Mabel’s sleeve, dragging her over to a selection of music not too far from his brother. “Look, Mabel. Those records are as big as our faces!”

She laughed, holding one up to her face to check. “They're huge!”

Shaking his head, Dipper escaped to the recently released CDs to find some things his boyfriend might like. He was alright with BABBA, so that gave him an idea for sound. And if he liked stronger lyrics than ‘Uptown Funk,’ that gave him even more options. Then there were the songs Wirt had caught him dancing to in the kitchen over the summer. Even if those were just emotional ties, he might like something similar to them.

He went for three discs, relatively certain that Wirt would enjoy them. He hoped so, anyway. They both loved music, and maybe this would give them even more in common within that subject. Pleased, he turned to go back to them and heard his name. It surprised him enough that he didn’t respond at first, only stammering out a startled “h-hey,” when he was greeted a second time.

The teen chuckled, socking Dipper in the shoulder. “What’s up, Dip? Wasn't expecting to see you at the mall.”

“Yeah.” Dipper adjusted his grip on the discs, wondering why the second baseman of their high school team thought he knew Dipper well enough to make that sort of judgment. “Just, uh, here with my sister and- and my boyfriend. His brother.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s cool. I'm meeting up with the team. We’re heading to Tyler’s place. He's got the coolest house, right?”

“Right.” He’d never been to the outfielder’s home, heart pounding almost painfully against his ribs. “The... the whole team?”

“Oh, yeah. First practice is next weekend, so Brian wanted to go over this year's strategy. And play some games on that crazy big flat-screen Tyler's got downstairs.”

_But I'm on the team. I'm on the team. No one invited me. Invite me please. I can’t go, but please-_

But the oblivious teen gave him another friendly punch. “So I'll see you around, dude.”

“I-” It hurt. It was stupid how much it hurt to be left out of a “team” activity. He was on the team. Why didn't anyone remember he was on the team until he showed up to practice? “Yeah. I'll... see you later.”

Dipper watched him walk off, not realizing he was trembling until the discs slipped out of his hands. “Crap,” he muttered, crouching to gather them up again, but he no longer wanted to listen to them. He didn’t want to be at the mall. He wanted- He wanted summer. In the summer, he had friends who cared enough to invite him to things. He had a purpose in the summer. He hated the isolation Piedmont offered, the loneliness that all too often blanketed him. Three of the most important people in his life were only a few feet away, but he felt so adrift that the distance may as well have been miles.

“Dipper?” Wirt hesitated as came up beside him in the aisle, a few cassettes in hand as he knelt down to help him pick up the CDs, but his fingers curled around one of his wrists instead. “Hey, you okay? You were… you were taking a while- not that you’re not allowed to, just...” He let himself trail off, gaze searching his face for answers. He’d seemed fine when they walked in. Fine and happy and excited to expose Wirt to a world of music.

“I-I...” Dipper tried to work up some of his good mood, but had to drop his gaze. “I'm fine, just...”

It was clear that he wasn’t. Wirt pursed his lips, thumb caressing over his pulse point lightly as he watched him for a minute, then glanced at the CDs he’d collected. He took them from him, adding them to the stack of tapes he already had. He managed to juggle them in one hand so he could leave the other touching Dipper still.

“I trust your judgment. I’m just gonna buy them, we don’t have to stay and listen,” he told him. “Besides, the uh… the covers look promising. We’ll buy these and then we can go. Well, not ‘go’ go, but go to another store. Was there another store you wanted to check out?”

“Not... not really. But we don’t have to go. It's not the store. It's... I just...” Dipper bit his lip. “One of the guys from the baseball team was here and the whole team’s going to someone's house. But... but nobody... I didn't know. No one told me. He didn’t even invite me just now. I-” He cut himself off, shifting out of Wirt’s grip so he could take his hand. “Why am I so easy to forget?” he mumbled.

“Oh…” Wirt’s heart sank, ached to the point of breaking as it dropped. His hand tightened around Dipper’s, fingers fitting together the way that felt right. “You’re not. They just don’t pay attention. They don’t notice how incredible a person is right in front of them and that’s not because you’re easy to forget. I couldn’t forget you after knowing you for an afternoon, no matter how much I might’ve tried to forget everything about the Unknown- you weren’t someone I could.” 

Wirt swallowed, still holding him tightly as he mentally debated something, nodding to himself as he came to an internal agreement for later. He leaned against him and pressed his lips to his temple. “I’m sorry they didn’t invite you. That they leave you out of things. You’re not forgettable though. Trust me, you’re anything but.”

Dipper nodded, though he wasn’t quite sure if he believed it. The evidence pointed elsewhere, but he didn't want the opinions of others to matter. He only wanted to think of Wirt’s opinion. He only wanted Wirt’s to matter. Once again, they had such little time together. He ached for more, so pushed the melancholy aside as well as he could. What time they had couldn’t be wasted. 

He lifted their hand, pressing a kiss to the back of his boyfriend’s. “I really love you, Wirt.”

“I really love you, Dipper,” he replied, gazing at him with all of that love and more as he leaned in to claim his lips in a soft kiss, breaking it only because the words on the tip of his tongue were bursting to get out. 

“Listen, I… I was going to wait until it was actually Christmas- you know, stick them under the tree and everything, but uh… I think I want to give them to you when we get home. Your home. They’re not my presents for you, but um… they are presents and I don’t know, they might cheer you up some? The guys- you know, Sara and Trevor and everyone… they always do a Secret Santa every year and, well, since Greg and I were going to be here the week they usually do it, they moved it up to while we were still there, but then they thought it was kinda a shame that you and Mabel couldn’t be part of it, so they all just- they all got you guys presents to make up for it. 

“They’re just little things, but… I don’t know. They wanted you to know they were thinking of you. There’s cards and stuff, too. I’m sure those will explain better than I’m doing now, I’m just kinda rambling.” Wirt glanced away, feeling a little stupid as he went on, especially when it might not even cheer his boyfriend up or diminish his feelings or just make him feel worse or something the opposite of what he was trying to accomplish.

“They...” Dipper stared at him. “Wait. They- Seriously? Just- they got us presents? Both of us?”

Feeling his gaze boring into him, Wirt met it shyly. “Um… yeah. They all got you each something. Like, my suitcase is filled with little bags and boxes for you and her. There’s- there’s even something from Jason Funderberker, but I checked that one because I suck and it’s good. It’s a fine present. I didn’t check Trevor’s for you though, and I probably should’ve now that I’m thinking of it…” His brow creased as different scenarios of how seriously Trevor took his gift flashed through his mind, despite the fact that Trevor took Secret Santa very seriously.

“No, it’s- Whatever they got, I don't care. I just wasn't expecting- Why would they give us presents? We barely know them, but they thought about us. That’s-” Dipper could hardly believe that people he'd met so briefly would remember him for a holiday. Mabel, he could understand, but both of them? “I know I've said this before, but... you're really lucky. You've got awesome friends, Wirt.”

Wirt’s shoulders sagged some. “I… I know,” he murmured, guilt twisting and writhing in his gut. “I’m sorry, Dipper. I don’t… I don’t even appreciate them the way I should, I… sometimes I don’t even believe they’re really my friends, but they are. I know they are. I’m just so used to being on my own- I was always on my own and I... I take them for granted.”

“You don’t have to be sorry about that. It's okay.” Dipper shrugged, not entirely sure why Wirt was even apologizing. “You’re shy and, I mean, you didn’t even... you didn't used to like yourself. That's exhausting enough without having friends. You’re getting better, right? The same way you are at being Greg’s brother.”

“I… Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” Ever since the Unknown he’d learned that if a kid like Greg admired and loved him, then there had to be something inside him that was worth it. “I guess I- I just wish I could give you my friends. Or, you know, your own set of friends. I… I don’t want you to ever feel like… like you don’t have anyone. I don’t want you to not like yourself or think there’s something wrong with you because there isn’t. If anyone deserves to have a bunch of friends, it’s you. So I’m… that’s what I’m sorry about. That I can’t do that for you.”

“That's... It's okay. I know who my friends are, Wirt. You and Greg, the people in Gravity Falls... And I've always got Mabel. So I'm not...” Dipper rose, tugging Wirt with him. “Okay, it bugs me some. But... but that's just because I don't... I don't know what I'm doing wrong. But I know that's dumb, and it doesn't always bother me. It just kind of hit me today. I'm fine.”

“Yeah?” Wirt left his hand in Dipper’s even after he stood, gaze searching his boyfriend’s face for any sign that he wasn’t. “I don’t want you to feel… lonely.”

“I don’t.” Not with Wirt there. Dipper slipped the CDs from him, offering a smile. “Come on. I still want you to listen to these. What tapes did you grab?”

“Oh. Um, just something I thought Mom might like, a tape of clarinet concertos, and just this tape by a band I like. I don’t have this one. I mean, I’ve got some of the songs, but I ripped them from the radio so I just thought it’d be nice to have them on an actual tape.” He shrugged fiddling with them, then returned Dipper’s smile. “I’m probably still going to buy whatever CDs you picked. I like your taste in music.”

“My taste in music is everything.” Dipper took his hand again, giving it a squeeze before tugging him towards the displayed headphones. “So we'll see if you still like it after these.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skim: Sorry we're such losers.  
> Syl: Uh. Here comes a mass weekend update to apologize? Also we're not dead.  
> Skim: Nope, quite the opposite of dead. Stay tuned.
> 
> Merry Christmas. In April.

Dipper tried not to be too nervous about being at the rink, but he wasn't sure how well he managed it. His hand was clasped tightly in Wirt's as they walked in behind their speeding siblings. It wasn't that busy, a handful of teens zipping around the ice and a few in the arcade. There were a few families scattered around as well, and Dipper watched a mother steer a little girl on unsteady skates.

“Uh. We should- we should find a table to put stuff down.”

“Sounds good,” Wirt agreed with an amused smile. He squeezed Dipper’s hand and led him towards some open tables. “We don’t have to get out there right away. We can people watch for a bit. Let Greg and Mabel make their presence known and terrorize everyone on the ice with their enthusiasm.”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Dipper sank down, reluctant in releasing Wirt's hand to move his bag off his shoulder. Their siblings were already at the counter for skates. “Um. You can go get your skates. Don't let me keep you from going out there. I'm fine watching.”

“You’re not keeping me from doing anything. I’m fine here, too.” Wirt sat down across from him, playfully tapping Dipper’s foot with his own. “I’m here to spend time with you, Dipper. Like I said before, we don’t even have to skate if you’re not up for it.”

“You're here to spend time with Mabel, too,” he pointed out, reaching out to lay a hand over Wirt's. “And I want you to have fun.”

“Mabel and I are going to make Christmas cookies, which you can’t help with and Greg will only want to eat the cookie dough. Trust me, Mabel and I will find things to do together,” Wirt reassured him, turning his hand so their palms would meet. “And who says sitting here with you isn’t fun? It’s kinda nice to just take in the ambiance. I like how they’ve decorated.” Lights and garland and snowflakes were strung up, adding a very cozy feel to the rink.

“Most places are having their off-season, so they take full advantage of this one. Part of the reason why Mabel wanted to come late is the lights. They do a little Christmas show around eight, so the place’ll fill up in about an hour.” Dipper looked down at their hands, fingers tracing the lines of Wirt’s palm.

“Yeah? That’ll be fun. The Christmas show, not necessarily the crowd, but I guess you probably figured that was what I meant.” Wirt’s fingers twitched a little, so he struggled to keep his hand steady, the light touch more than welcome. “And I promise I’ll go out on the ice in a little bit, okay? I’ve got to gear myself up to not look like a total clutz out there.”

“Trust me, you can't look half as bad as me.” Dipper shrugged, glancing up. “I'll go when you do. I'd rather do it before the crowd starts to filter in.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll stay close to the sides and I’ll hold your hand if you need the extra support.” Wirt curled his fingers around Dipper’s wrist, stroking over his pulse point with his thumb. “Then we can grab some food and hide at the arcade for a bit. I do want you to have a good time, too.”

“I will. I'm used to being on my own here. I've got the high score on three of the games in the arcade unless someone's actually managed to beat them.” Lips curving, Dipper lifted Wirt’s hand to his lips. “There’s a pool table, too, if you want to learn a couple things.”

Blinking, Wirt’s lips twisted into a smile that was a strange combination of amused and extremely interested. “O-oh. Okay. Yeah, I’d- I’d like that.” He cleared his throat, gaze flicking towards the arcade and then back to the rink. “Well, we’d better get our skating in now so we have time for all that, huh?”

“Skating!” Mabel dumped two pairs of skates on the table, beaming. “Wirt, yours might not fit. You can exchange them if we got the wrong size, but you're absolutely skating. Both of you. Greg and I have made executive decisions. Haven't we, corporal?”

“That’s right, General Mabel.” Greg saluted her with the most serious of expressions.

“Of course we’re skating. We were just about to start making our way over there.” Wirt took the skates Mabel got for him, making a mental note to pay her back at the next available opportunity, and checked the size. “These should work. Thanks, Mabel.”

“You’re welcome!” Mabel beamed, scooping Greg up and setting him in a chair to help get his shoes changed. “I love to skate. It’s so much fun! We took a class when we were little, but Dipper skates like a fawn.”

Dipper huffed, staring at the skates balefully. “I just don’t see the point of wearing really sharp knives on my feet to basically walk on an enclosed space.”

“Deerper,” Mabel teased.

“Aw,” Wirt cooed, smile growing. “That’s kind of adorable. But don’t worry, Dipper, I told you I’d support you.”

“Which is the only reason why I'm doing this. If we both fall it's not my fault.”

“It'll absolutely be your fault,” Mabel teased, patting Greg’s calf. “There we go, corporal. You're ready for the ice!”

“Yes!” Greg pumped both fists in the air as he leapt up, wobbling only a little on his skates. “Hurry up, captain! You and the admiral are needed on the battlefield.”

“At ease, soldier. We'll be there in a minute.” Wirt crossed one leg over his knee and started to undo his laces.

“That’s the spirit. The Christmas spirit!” Greg grinned as he started to toddle towards the ice.

“Wait for one of us first, Greg.” Wirt’s tone shifted to one of warning as he glanced up to keep one eye on his brother.

Mabel giggled, slipping off her flats and pulling on the socks that had been balled up in her pocket. Her brother was still staring suspiciously at the ice skates. “Dipper.”

When he looked up, she tilted her head towards Wirt in silent communication. _You'll ruin his fun._

Dipper frowned, glancing from him to her, and rolled his eyes. _No, I won't._

She pointed at him, narrowing her eyes, and tugged on one of her skates. _Stop being a brat._

Pressing his lips together, Dipper tugged off his sneakers. _Fine. Whatever._

Mabel smiled smugly, lacing her skates. She hopped up as well as possible on the narrow blades. “Come on, Greg! I expect you to hold my hand, little best friend. It's way more fun that way.” And safer since she wasn't entirely sure how good a skater the boy was.

“Sure thing, Mabel. I won’t let you fall on your butt like Dipper,” Greg assured her as he took her hand.

Wirt rolled his eyes as he turned towards Dipper to offer him a smile, but he hesitated when he glimpsed the firm line his mouth was set it. “You really don’t have to skate if you don’t want to. I’ll just go out for a few spins since Mabel already got the skates and all, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to skate with me just because I had this dumb idea.” He quickly focused on lacing up his skates, fingers fumbling clumsily.

Dipper sighed. He really was going to ruin Wirt’s fun. A hand reached out, covering his boyfriend’s. “It's okay. I'm just really, completely bad at this and it's seriously embarrassing. But Mabel always gets me out for one go-around. I think it'll be more fun with you as long as you promise not to laugh too hard.”

Wirt held onto his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m not going to laugh at you. I’ll just be happy to go around with you once. Don’t be embarrassed. We can’t both fall if we’re holding onto each other.” Except that was exactly what would happen. “Or if we do, you can just laugh at me instead.”

“We can laugh at each other,” Dipper compromised with a wry smile. “Tie your skates the right way, okay? We're at enough risk for falling on our faces without those coming undone.” He tugged on his own, still reluctant but at least willing to give it a try. Between Wirt and the handrail, he should be mostly fine on the ice.

Wirt huffed, grinning as he nudged Dipper, though carefully relaced his skates and made sure they were extra tight because his boyfriend was right. He got to his feet and wobbled some, ankles turning in as he struggled to stay straight. When he was certain of his balance, he held his hand out to Dipper to help him up. “No matter what, we'll be okay and it’ll just be fun being together, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Dipper held his hands tightly, immediately unsteady on the skates. “I really don't get how people do this all the ti- _ime_!” He wobbled, his attempt to take a step hampered.

Wirt banded an arm around his waist, letting him lean against his chest for support. “I got you. Take it- take it easy. Um…” He took a half-step backwards, mind whirring as he gauged whether or not this was feasible. “I don’t really know either, but- but I think we can do this. Teamwork. Yeah.”

“Yeah. Totally got this.” Dipper watched their feet, the duo taking their careful time getting to the ice. “Okay. So far, so good. You first.”

“Okay.” Wirt let go of Dipper with one hand, gripping the edge of the rink as he turned and stepped onto the ice. It had been a while since he last skated, but muscle memory took over as he put his weight on the ice. His grip on Dipper's hand tightened as one foot started to slide away, but he managed to let go to keep him from falling and grabbed onto the side with both hands. He pushed himself up into a steadier position. “Nothing to it,” he chuckled breathlessly, slowly letting go as he watched his balance.

“So you say.” Dipper bit his lip, much more hesitant to step out. He gripped the handrail with both hands, the only thing holding him up when he immediately slipped. “Crap, crap, crap-!”

“You’re fine, Dipper,” Wirt chuckled, taking hold of one arm to help steady him. His grip was firm as he bore some of his weight to keep him from falling flat on the ice. “I’ve got you. Not sure how reassuring that is given my track record in grace, but I’ve still got you.”

“Yeah, well, at least you can stand on the ice.” Dipper clung to his boyfriend and the rail, trying to steady himself enough to at least stand straight. Moving was going to be a totally different obstacle, but they'd take it one step at a time.

“You are, too. You haven’t fallen yet.” Wirt was happy to wait for him, smile bright as he took in his wobbly-kneed boyfriend. “I’m very proud of you.”

Dipper tried a glare, but couldn’t work up any heat for it and ended up pouting. “If you let me go and I die, you’re not getting a single Christmas present.”

Wirt scoffed, rolling his eyes despite the quirk to his lips. “I also wouldn’t get any Christmas kisses or cuddles or have someone to sleep next to at night, so it really wouldn’t be in my best interest to let you fall.” When he met his gaze, he found himself melting under his pout as he started to gently glide forward. “You’re too adorable for me to let go of. I’m going to have to hold onto you all night, whether we’re on the ice or not.”

Dipper held him a little tighter, his movements far more uncertain than his boyfriend’s. “I'm okay with that.”

“Me too.” Wirt shifted his weight, propelling them forward. “You don’t have to move your legs if you don’t want to. I can move us along. I think.” He glanced down at his own skates while a couple of giggly children wobbled past them, just as unsteady, but without the caution or fear of falling hampering their speed. “You just enjoy the ride.”

Nodding, Dipper did his best to just keep upright. His grip didn't lessen, but it was slowly easier to do as he asked. It was nice being pressed so close when they would soon have so much distance between them, his boyfriend warm in the chilly arena. “Okay. This- this isn't so bad.”

“Yeah?”

Wirt smiled down at him, taking the curve slowly. It was a bit of a challenge, as he needed to keep up his momentum lest he lose his balance and send them both to the ice, but he had practice with going slow from teaching Greg to skate last year. It was all in the hips. And the ankles. He let both roll, easing into a steady side-to-side motion, legs a little less than shoulder-width apart. Wirt linked his arm with Dipper’s, letting his boyfriend continue to cling as they made a loop around the rink arm in arm. The twinkling lights, the music piped in over the speakers, the chill in the air, and Dipper right beside him fulfilled whatever romantic visions he’d entertained when picturing the holiday with him.

Beaming brightly, Wirt’s eyes glistened and cheeks colored with pleasure as he looked to him, letting them glide to a stop near where they came in. “Thank you. I know I said you didn’t have to… but I’m really glad you did.”

Dipper grinned, adjusting his hold so his arm was around Wirt’s waist rather than gripping his arm and his sweater for dear life. His boyfriend was absolutely beautiful when he was happy, and Dipper didn’t want to leave the rink just yet with him smiling so bright. “Do you- Let’s go around again. If you want to. I'll actually try moving my feet some so you're not the only one doing anything.”

Wirt lit up, then laughed, his arm going around Dipper’s middle to continue offering support as they started again. “Don’t worry about it. I need the exercise. I don’t mind dragging my lazy, uncoordinated boyfriend around.” But he was absolutely willing to go around again. He’d missed these little things with Dipper, playing around and having fun together. Sometimes they were both too serious for their own good.

“Wow. And here I was thinking about how cute you are and you think I'm lazy and uncoordinated. That hurts, man.” Dipper’s attempt at a huff was cut a short when he tried to move. “Okay, so maybe I'm a _little_ bit uncoordinated. I'll give you that.”

“And a little bit lazy,” Wirt added with a laugh, but helped him stay standing even as he pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You’re also adorable and very handsome in your winter wear. You’re many things, Dipper Pines. And I love every single one about you.”

“Brat,” Dipper accused, grinning. “But I guess if you think I'm adorable and handsome, you’re not that bad. You’re pretty cute in your actual seasonally appropriate sweaters. And I'm seriously impressed by how good you skate.”

“What? No, I’m not that good.” Wirt felt warmth flooding his cheeks as he glanced away. “It’s just- I live where there’s snow and ice and I had to learn how to walk without falling on my face even more than usual, and I guess skating came along with that.”

Dipper laughed, giving him squeeze. “As somebody who can barely stand on skates, I'm allowed to be impressed by my guy being able to guide me around the ice.”

Wirt squeezed him back. “Well, I’m also impressed by my guy, getting out on the ice even though he can barely stand on skates. I’m more than happy to be your guide.”

“You're the best one I could've asked for.”

Mabel and Greg zipped back, Mabel turning to skate backwards and wave at them with the hand not holding Greg’s. “Hi, guys! Having fun?”

“I think so. Mostly.” Wirt patted Dipper’s hip fondly. “I am anyway. What about you guys?”

“We’re setting a new world record for going around the rink the most times in different ways,” Greg told them, craning his head back to look at them as he tried to balance on one skate. “We’re at five and a half now! A personal best.”

“The plan is to go forever,” Mabel explained. “Or until we're hungry. Whichever comes first.”

“Probably hunger.” Dipper smiled, not entirely sure if he was having fun, per say. But he wasn’t unhappy. Far from it, really, tucked close to his boyfriend.

“Aw…” Greg placed one hand over his stomach as he looked down. “All this talking about being hungry has made me hungry.” He looked up at Mabel. “Can we go around three more times first? Wait, no four. Four’s a good number ‘cause there’s four of us.”

Wirt huffed out a laugh. “Sure, Greg. Dipper and I are getting off after this so we can scope out food options while you keep skating.”

“You don’t have to stop just because of me. It's okay if you want to keep skating.”

“And not get to see your adorable face up close? I don’t know…” Wirt paused their skating to rub their noses together. “Sounds like you’re trying to get rid of me.”

“You could skate with me and Mabel, Wirt! Just one time,” Greg piped up. “Please?”

Wirt blinked glancing over at his little brother. “Oh. Um. Yeah, okay. I’ll skate with you, Greg.”

Mabel cheered. “Dipper, your job is pictures!”

He laughed. “Okay, fine. I'll take some pictures once my shoes are safely on and then find food.”

“Sounds like a plan, admiral.” Greg turned around to salute him. “Oh, but we should take a picture of Dipper and Wirt on the ice together ‘cause it’s probably never gonna happen again, huh?”

“Probably not,” Wirt agreed with a laugh and squeezed him. “But that’s okay. I didn’t fall in love with him for his graceful skating skills after all.”

“And I'm very glad about that, trust me.” Dipper grinned at him even while Mabel pulled out her phone for a few snapshots. “This relationship wouldn’t last long otherwise.”

“He fell in love with you despite your lack of grace and total inability to be cool,” Mabel teased, her next picture featuring Dipper sticking his tongue out at her.

“I don’t know… I- I thought he was pretty cool.” Wirt shrugged a little, cheeks turning pink at the admission.

“Dipper’s really cool! He can ride a bike really fast,” Greg praised with all the naivete of a seven-year-old. “And he plays baseball and he talks to ghosts.”

Smug, Dipper smirked. “See? I'm cool.”

“It is hard to argue with a list like that.” Mabel gave in with a laugh, unwilling to argue when she'd only been teasing.

“Though I did say ‘was,’” Wirt hummed, lips quirking up despite himself until he couldn’t help a small laugh and brushed his lips to the corner of his smirk.

“Being part of the Mystery Best Friends automatically makes you cool,” Greg decided with a nod. “You’re cool, too, Mabel. You make sweaters and dance and have the best scarves. And Wirt’s cool. When he’s not being a worry Wirt.”

“Oh, gee. Thanks, Greg.”

“You’re welcome! But having me as a little brother makes up for those cool points that you lost from worrying, so it evens out.”

“Greg’s my new favorite,” Dipper decided.

Mabel giggled. “He's cool because he comes up with amazing games and is super brave. Greg’s everyone's favorite.”

Wirt reached out to ruffle Greg’s hair as the youngest of their group laughed. “And that’s a rock fact. One hundred percent true.”

Beaming, Greg looked up at them all. “We should all go ice skating more often, I like where this conversation’s going,” he giggled.

“We'll go every winter break,” Mabel decided. “Next year we'll all be at your house, so we can skate in the snow. That would be so much fun!”

Dipper laughed. “Sure, that's a word for it.”

“I’ll hold your hand again and make sure you don’t fall,” Wirt assured him. “And then we can snuggle in front of a warm fire afterwards, with blankets and hot chocolate and I’ll give you my complete, undivided attention.” His smile only grew as he attempted to bribe him, and even a kiss to the corner of his mouth couldn’t stop it. “We’ll do whatever you want the rest of the day as a reward for letting me show off my boyfriend. That sounds like fun to me, don’t you think?”

Dipper ducked his head, cheeks coloring. “Maybe a little bit of fun. I'm really bummed that we don't have a fireplace here, actually.”

Mabel giggled as they cruised to a stop, Dipper’s a little unsteady. “They're being waffles again, Greg. What are we gonna do with these brothers of ours?”

“I think they need some time apart. Come on, Wirt. It’s mine and Mabel’s turn to skate with you now!” Greg abandoned his grip on Mabel to tug on Wirt’s arm with both hands. “You can be waffles with Dipper later.”

“Alright, alright,” Wirt laughed. “Just let me make sure Dipper’s on solid ground first, Greg.” He gave him a farewell squeeze, holding tight to him until he made it off the ice. “There you go. All good?”

“Yeah, I'm fine.” Dipper leaned against the wall, retrieving his phone to snap pictures of his family. “Go have fun, and maybe I'll let you take me around again later if you think you can handle it.”

Lips quirking in an amused smile, Wirt nodded and pushed away from the railing. He shifted so Greg was between him and Mabel, each of them able to take one of the boy’s hands as they started their circuit, going a little faster than Wirt had been with Dipper. The two teens did most of the work while Greg went along for the ride, giggling as he swung their arms and tried to keep his feet straight so his skates wouldn’t get caught with Wirt or Mabel’s.

Dipper snapped easily a dozen pictures before his ankles really began to protest and he eased away from the wall to carefully make his way back to their table. His family was incredible, and he was nearly bursting with pride and love for the three of them. He switched back to his sneakers quickly before returning to the wall to put the video feature to work. He wanted to keep this. Mabel spinning to skate backwards, impressing the half-brothers with a jump that Dipper never would've landed, Wirt and Greg both smiling so brightly at her. It was perfect, and he wanted nothing more than to have them all this close all the time. To be a whole, happy unit. It was the best Christmas gift, and he hadn’t even had to wait for the twenty-fifth.

“Hi, Dipper!” Greg shouted from across the rink as he noticed him on one of their go-arounds, waving wildly with his free hand, the other clutched tightly in Wirt’s. “Are you watching us, Dipper? I’m gonna do a spin! Watch!”

Staying tethered to Wirt, Greg wobbled out in front of him more, skating on his own while the older brother slowed his pace to not overtake him. He lifted his arm, giving Greg a slow spin, letting him skate backwards for a few unsteady glides before facing forward again. Delighted by the ease of the turn, Greg demanded another. Wirt obliged with a laugh of his own.

“I’m gonna learn how to skate just like Mabel!” Greg tried a little jump next, feet slipping out from under him, but didn’t fall back thanks to Wirt catching him from behind.

“Easy, Greg.”

Dipper chuckled, lowering the camera to wave back. “Nice try, Greg!”

Mabel laughed, ruffling his hair. “You'll get there, baby. I have total faith in you.”

“Thanks, Mabel! I do, too.” Greg grinned, skating ahead when Wirt righted him. “I’ll practice when we get home and be even better next year.”

“I can hardly wait to see that. Wirt, you'll have to film him practicing.” Mabel skated beside him, smooth on the ice. “Maybe I'll convince Dipper to get his butt out here more often so he can be better at this too.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to capture every moment. Maybe we’ll do a video log or something.” Wirt flashed her a smile, matching her steadiness.

“They could be like video postcards,” Greg piped up, coming to a stop by skating right into the rail with a light bump. He grabbed onto it, using it to pull him the rest of the way to the opening closest to where Dipper was.

“Good plan.” Dipper laughed, helping Greg off the ice. “You ready to locate some food, shortstop?”

“Yeah! Skating is hard work.” Greg held on to Dipper with both hands as he readjusted to solid ground. He began waddling back towards the table with him as Wirt and Mabel followed suit.

Unfortunately, Wirt didn’t master the art of solid ground the way Greg had. His ankle gave out and he tripped with an undignified yelp as he flailed his way to the floor. “I’m good- I’m fine,” he hastened to assure passerbys as embarrassment flared and he scrambled back up.

“Look on the bright side, Wirt,” Greg called back to him. “At least you didn’t fall on the ice.”

Dipper laughed, grasping Wirt's forearms to help him up “Don’t worry about it, pilgrim. You looked good out there.”

“Yeah, but at least if I’d fallen out there it would’ve been normal,” he huffed, cheeks still flushed, though a little less so as Dipper helped steady him. “Sad thing is the same thing probably would’ve happened if I’d been wearing regular shoes.”

“Maybe, but at least you’re a cute klutz.”

Mabel giggled, waiting for them to step aside so she could leave the ice. “Dipper, we all know you can sympathize with being clumsy.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” he lied. “Come on, pilgrim. Let's get some food.”

With a laugh, Wirt nodded and made his way back to their things with careful steps. Once they had their shoes back on, they started walking to see what was around, Greg skipping hand-in-hand with Mabel as he sang along to the Christmas music floating in the air. Wirt slipped his hand into Dipper’s, fitting their fingers together and pressing close, enraptured in the moment.

On or off the ice, it was wonderful enough just being together for this time of the year. “I’ll be home for Christmas,” Greg sang out when the next song started.

Wirt’s lips quirked up as he pressed them to Dipper’s temple. “You can count on me.”

Mabel didn’t hesitate to join in, thrilled by them both and so giddy to have them nearby. “Please have snow and mistletoe.”

“And presents under the tree,” Dipper finished, stealing a proper kiss from his boyfriend. “Sorry we don’t have snow.”

“We get enough of it the rest of winter,” Wirt chuckled. “Trust me, not having snow is a small price to pay for being with you. Home.”

_Home_. Dipper grinned, resting his cheek against Wirt’s shoulder as they waited in line for food. Even Piedmont could feel like home with the Palmer-Whelan brothers around. “I trust you, pilgrim.”

\----

Three days before Christmas, the twins wore matching sweaters. Dipper kept tugging at his, Mabel shooting him apologetic glances, but she couldn't have refused the request from their mom and at least she'd tried to make them a little different. Both were blue and white with pine trees spanning the chest, but Dipper’s had a deer stitched amongst the trees and hers had sparkling silver threaded into snowflake patterns. She'd also made his a little loose, so he couldn't be too annoyed with her. It was really just the point of it. Matching sweaters was dumb. Their mom's disappointed little, “Oh, they're a little different, huh?” was dumb. It was all dumb. Everything was dumb.

Maybe not everything. Dipper dropped his cheek onto Wirt's shoulder, the two of them snuggled together in the back of the family's SUV. Wirt wasn’t dumb. Wirt thought he was cute in his sweater and had been the one to point out the differences in the first place. He took his boyfriend’s hand with a small huff, tracing the lines of his palm with a fingertip. Their grandmother lived an hour south of Piedmont, not counting the unavoidable traffic. An accident at the start of their journey had added an extra forty-five minutes to their drive and his father had mortified him more than once with his complaints. Complaining wouldn’t make the traffic go away.

At least they were almost there, which was admittedly part of his problem. He didn’t know how his extended family would react to his boyfriend or how his boyfriend would react to them. There wouldn’t even be a place to escape unless they went out back, and that could only last for so long.

Wirt nudged their shoulders together lightly, leaving his hand in Dipper’s to trace to his heart’s content. He could sympathize with Dipper’s mood, unsurprised by the grumpy huffs and sighs, and his heart went out to him. It was a big deal introducing a boyfriend to family members at the holidays, and honestly Wirt was a little terrified, uncertain of what to expect. Dipper’s family was very different from his own.

Where his mom and stepdad embraced Dipper and Mabel as if they were their own children, Mr. and Mrs. Pines hadn’t. Not to say they weren’t nice and welcoming, they were. Wirt liked them, tried to engage in conversation with them at the right moments because they were his boyfriend’s parents, and they seemed to think he was a decent person. From what he could tell anyway. That was more than good enough for him, a good impression with them all he could hope for to ensure that they would continue to be able to spend their breaks like this.

It didn’t change the fact that he still didn’t feel completely comfortable with them. It felt like walking on very thin ice, one wrong move and everything would crack. With meeting Dipper and Mabel’s extended family, that feeling only intensified and a dark, icy river awaited him, ready to send him careening over a tumultuous waterfall. Basically his stomach was in knots, but he didn’t want his nerves to show themselves and give Dipper any further reason to be grumpy. After all it was still the holidays. They were still together, it was still a time to be happy and warm.

“Hey, so… anything you want to get off your chest before we enter the fray?” he asked, injecting a hint of playfulness to his tone as he spoke just above a murmur, leaning in to brush his lips to the curve of his ear.

Dipper’s lips twitched despite himself. “Just my mom's side of the family is nothing like my mom, so be ready for loud and be extra ready for a very nosy grandma. And I've got a pretty big confession to make.” He looked up, playfully kissing beneath his chin. “I love you.”

“Oh wow. That is a pretty big confession,” Wirt replied, a blush stealing across his cheeks as his lips quirked up in an unavoidable smile. “I’m not sure if I can handle it. Let me get back to you later.”

“Seriously?” Dipper laughed, nuzzling his neck. “You’re such a jerk.”

“I’m a jerk who loves you. Does that make it better?” Wirt couldn’t help his own laugh, squirming under Dipper’s nuzzling. “I’m sorry, I’m just… trying not to be nervous, I guess. About your loud family. Though I shouldn’t be surprised. You and Mabel had to get it from somewhere,” he teased.

“We got it from both sides. We were doomed from the start.” Dipper sat up a little straighter to wrap an arm around him and scoot closer. “You don’t have to be nervous, pilgrim. They'll like you, and you won't even have to do anything special. You’re easy to like.”

Wirt puffed out his cheeks, casting Dipper a suspicious glance that was only half playful. “Pfft. Don’t lie, Dipper Pines. I already bought your presents, so buttering me up won’t do any good.”

“What? Just buy me more presents.” Lips curving, Dipper nuzzled him. “But I really mean it. You're sweet and cute and just give off this totally harmless, approachable vibe. And then you mutter poetry under your breath as though no one can hear you, and you get interesting too. Easy to like. And for me, very easy to love because I get all that and more.”

There were arguments on the tip of his tongue, but he bit them back as his shoulders sagged under Dipper’s assurances and let them wash over him in soft, warm waves. He thought similar things of his boyfriend, after all, and it would hurt to hear him list the reasons why they weren’t true, so how could he do that to him in return? Wirt snuggled against him, nuzzling back before looking to him for silent permission to move his hat back. Just a little. Just enough so he could drop a kiss to the star drops on his forehead.

“Well, I have to be easy to love for you. It’s only fair since you’re so easy for me to love, too.”

“Mmhm.” Dipper sighed, attitude thoroughly soothed by his boyfriend’s incredibly sweet, romantic gesture.

And then the car stopped.

“Ben’s here,” Michael muttered. “We’re not staying.”

“Michael, we didn't drive all this way just to leave. Besides, I have cookies-”

“We'll eat them on the way back.”

Laura bit her lip, the source of Dipper’s own habit, and gazed out the window. Then she did what she so rarely did - defied her husband. She pushed open her door and climbed out, ignoring Michael's protests. “Come on, kids. We’re staying.”

Mabel twisted in her seat, the twins exchanging glances, and Dipper bit his lip. “Oh, man.”

“We can do this, Dipdop! We haven't seen him at all this year.”

“Yeah, well, you didn't bring your boyfriend.” Dipper unhooked his seatbelt just the same.

“That’s… do you think he’ll say anything?” Said boyfriend wondered meekly. What nerves Dipper had just eased flared up once more as Wirt followed suit with nothing more than a glance between Dipper, Mabel, and Mr. Pines.

Greg was already unbuckled, hopping out of the car sporting an eager grin. “I’ll help you bring the cookies in, Mrs. Pines,” he volunteered.

“Oh, thank you.” She handed him one of the smaller plates, the carrying case she'd kept at her feet during the drive packed. She'd already decided to like these half-brothers. Their parents had clearly raised them a little differently, the two seeming rather rebellious, but they were certainly polite. It helped, too, that Dipper had smiled and laughed more with them in their home. That mattered more than an odd affinity for poetry from a teenage boy and a very unique imagination and outgoing personality from the seven year old.

Her son gathered the rest of the case of cookies, fetching two of the trays out for Mabel and Wirt. As long as they had something, they could flee to the kitchen quickly. Michael was the last out of the car, and he went to the trunk to retrieve gifts. “You kids go inside. Make sure you greet your grandmother.”

“We will, daddy!” Mabel beamed, hefting Waddles out of the car. She wasn't going to let one awful uncle ruin family fun time. “To the door!”

“Mabel, don't yell please.”

“To the door!” she repeated in a mock whisper, the lowered tone in deference to Laura.

Greg and Waddles went along beside her while Wirt hesitated, choosing to stay close to Dipper. He clutched his cookie tray tightly. With deep, slow breaths, he hoped to relax enough that he could manage a nice, friendly smile when greeting Dipper’s relatives, though that didn’t stop him from walking just a hair or two behind his boyfriend, nearly stepping on the heel of his shoe twice in the short walk from the car to the front door.

Dipper couldn’t take his hand with both sets full, so bumped their hips together as they approached the small brick home. It was short, appearing narrow from the front, but the twins knew how much bigger it seemed inside. Mabel knocked briefly before pushing the door open. “The party's here!” she called, the foyer empty as the four of them shuffled inside.

A girl poked her head through a wide, arched doorway, and waved. “Hey, guys! Are those Aunt Laura’s cookies? I need some, like, right now.”

“Help us carry them to the kitchen and maybe we'll sneak you one,” Dipper bargained.

“Total deal.” She stepped the rest of the way inside, willow slim and smiling brightly, and took the tray from Greg. “What’s up, kiddo?”

“This is Greg and his brother, Wirt.”

“Oh! Dipper's boyfriend. Cool, hi!”

Dipper’s cheeks tinted, but so far, so good. “This is our cousin, Kayla. She's younger than us.”

“By five months, jerk.”

“Oh, um, hi. Nice to meet you.” Wirt managed to get out, fighting his stammer to make a good impression with his boyfriend’s family - because no matter how much he denied it, his dad was right, he did stammer. Instead he tried for a smile and bumped Dipper’s hip back. “And don’t listen to him. This is coming from the guy who’s in denial about being five minutes younger than Mabel.”

“Because we're twins. Twins are the same age. She didn’t come until February.”

“Yeah, well, I'm cooler than you are and we're in the same grade. Come on. Let's get to the kitchen before Uncle Ben emerges.”

Mabel skipped ahead, beaming. “Where is he?”

“Sniffing around grandma's guest room like he's going to move in. Like he does every year.”

Dipper grimaced, glancing into the living room as they passed. There was an old black and white Christmas film playing on her small television. The tree beside it swept the ceiling, the angel perched atop it crooked as a result. It was empty of people, but the voices he heard down the opposite hall had him moving a little faster.

The kitchen was easily the biggest room in the house, cookies and an impressive tree-shaped cake already on the island in the middle. Mabel stole a peanut butter blossom, giving one to Greg with a wink. “It smells like ham in here.”

“Grandma and mom put it in when Aunt Laura said you guys were stuck in traffic.”

Wirt’s eyes widened at the sight of the cake, grateful that Mabel had given Greg something to keep him from trying to swipe his finger along the frosting. He set the cookies down on the first available space he could find, gaze soaking up the appearance of the kitchen with an interest that was only half born from his appreciation for homes and how they were designed, most of it reserved for the fact that this was his boyfriend’s grandmother’s home. It reminded him of Greg’s grandparents’ home, the warmth and smell of good cooking and feeling of family - had they had more than one child to fill the house with grandchildren. Wirt caught Dipper’s eye in his study and he started, cheeks tinting towards pink before offering a smile. So far so good. Their cousin was nice and friendly enough, so that was a good sign.

“When do we get to eat?” Greg asked, trying to peer into the oven as if he could see the ham through it. “How long does ham take?”

“They’re slow cooking it, so another hour maybe?”

“Don’t worry, Greg. We've got cookies!” Mabel reminded him. “Did Aunt Maggie make the cake?”

“Yeah.” Kayla tucked a blonde curl behind her ear before resting her hands on her hips. “Mom and I baked a pie, too and it's in the fridge.”

“At least you didn’t make fruitcake this year,” Dipper teased, taking Wirt’s hand to lace their fingers.

“Who says we didn’t?” She stuck her tongue out at Dipper’s groan, then crouched to greet Waddles. She rubbed affectionately between his ears, grinning at his grunts. “There’s some apples in the fridge for Waddles. And for you, loser.”

Dipper stuck his tongue out at her. “Mabel doesn't like apples. I do.”

“Brat,” both girls accused.

Wirt laughed quietly, squeezing Dipper’s hand in support while Greg placed his hands on his hips defiantly. “Dipper’s not a brat, he’s the admiral.”

“He can still be a brat.”

Mabel giggled, ruffling Greg’s hair. “The brattiest admiral around. And a waffle. Right, Greg?”

“Oh yeah.” He beamed up at her. “Sorry, Mabel. I forgot. He’s definitely a waffle. Him and Wirt both!”

“Greg, please.” Wirt shrunk back a bit, shoulders hunching. He still didn’t even really know what a waffle was in regards to the two of them other than the fact that it was some sort of code for them as a couple.

Dipper tucked an arm around his waist. “At least we're waffles together.”

“Waffles?”

“It’s a me and Greg secret.” Mabel gave the boy a hug, thrilled. “It's a good secret, though.”

“The best secret,” he giggled.

Wirt sighed, but leaned against Dipper nonetheless and let it lie. “So, um… is there anything else we need to go help with?”

Kayla’s brows disappeared behind her bangs. “Help with?”

“Yeah. He's really sweet and polite,” Dipper explained, kissing his boyfriend’s cheek.

“Yet he's dating you.”

Mabel laughed, stealing another cookie. This one a chocolate chip that she broke into two for her and her partner in crime. “It’s pretty great, isn't it?”

“Ah-ha! I thought I heard voices.”

Mabel’s eyes widened in delight. “Hi, grandma!”

“Hi, honey.” The old woman smiled, lines fanning out from the corners of eyes shining behind round frames. “Oh, you and Dipper almost match! Just different enough, hm?”

“Yeah.” Dipper let the annoyance over the sweaters go, releasing Wirt to step forward and wrap the slight woman in a hug. “Missed you over Thanksgiving.”

“I missed you too.” She gave his cheek a kiss, no taller than Dipper himself. “I've got your envelopes in my room. Don’t you let me forget.”

“I won't,” he promised, a little thrilled to know she'd thought of them, and stepped back to gesture at Wirt. “Grandma, this is my boyfriend, Wirt. And his little brother, Greg.”

“Well, you’re both more than welcome.” She left a hand on Dipper’s shoulder, but extended the other to Wirt. “Merry Christmas, dear.”

“Hi- Merry Christmas. Thank you so much for letting us come celebrate with you.” Wirt took her hand, immensely grateful that by some stroke of luck that his wasn’t clammy as they shook.

“You let my grandbabies celebrate with you, and Laura tells me you make our boy smile.”

“Oh my gosh,” Dipper interrupted. “Grandma.”

“Don’t you ‘oh-my-gosh’ me.” But she winked at him before turning her gaze on Greg. “Already enjoying cookies, hm?”

“Yes, ma’am! I can always appreciate a good cookie,” he told her with his most charming smile. “And yours are great!”

“Thank you, sweetheart. Why don't you ask Mabel to grab us a plate and we'll take it to the family room?”

“Mom and dad were bringing in presents,” Dipper put in.

“Oh, I think you walked in just fine on your own.” She gave his shoulder a squeeze before taking hold of Wirt’s as well. “Why don't you boys help an old woman?”

Dipper grinned. “There are no.old women in here, grandma.”

“Scoundrel. I hope you know what you're getting into with this one, Wirt.”

“Oh, don’t worry. He’s made it perfectly clear how impossible he is.” Wirt smiled at him around her, shrugging a little before putting his arm around the woman to help her just as he would his own grandmother when she demanded it of him, though she always did so in a less sweet manner.

“Where's your cane?” Mabel asked, grabbing a plate after sneaking Greg another cookie. Kayla grabbed a chocolate krinkle for herself.

“Oh, Benjamin set it somewhere. I imagine I'll find it soon enough.”

“Wirt and I'll go look for it after we get you settled,” Dipper offered, seeing an opportunity for escape.

“You can treat it like one of your books. You do still like those mysteries, don't you?”

“Yes, grandma.”

“Oh, good. And, Wirt, dear, Laura tells me you like poetry?”

“He's a poet,” Dipper bragged, grinning at his boyfriend. “You should see some of what he writes, grandma. He's great.”

The old woman chuckled. “If he wants to recite a bit, I wouldn't mind. Now let the boy speak for himself.”

Wirt paled, fairly certain that his heart stopped for a beat as he cast Dipper a horrified look when no one else was looking. He didn’t just recite poetry to _anyone_. Not consciously, anyway. Though this was his boyfriend’s family, but what if they thought he was a joke? The things he wrote were highly personal and he still worried enough about sending Dipper what he wrote, let alone reading it aloud with strangers-

“Here, Wirt! I got a cookie just for you!” Greg hurried ahead of them, holding out a chocolate chip one to him.

It did its job, abruptly putting the brakes on Wirt’s train of thought as he blinked at the cookie suddenly being thrust in his face. “O-oh… thanks, Greg.” He took it along with a shaky breath before actually speaking for himself. “Um. Y-yeah. I do write some. Sometimes. I’m- it’s not- I’m not Walt Whitman or- or Yeats or Wordsworth or anything. It’s just- it’s something I… like to do… in addition to reading it.”

“You don't need to be them, man. You’re you and that's perfect.”

Their grandmother smiled, letting the boys help her onto a rose-patterned wingback chair. “Thank you, boys.”

“Anytime.” Dipper’s gaze traveled to the tree and the smattering of gifts beneath it. Had she gotten something for Wirt and Greg? He hadn't considered it before, but he really didn't like the idea of opening gifts in front of either of them. But they also weren’t related to them so there wasn't an obligation there. He tugged at his sweater, frown tugging at his lips.

There was a sudden squeal, Mabel gasping and setting the cookie tray on the coffee table with a clatter. “What in god’s name is a pig doing here?”

The twins exchanged glances. Uncle Ben.

Mabel scurried out first, hefting Waddles up. The pig snorted with relief when she rubbed his back, and she stepped away from the irritated man who'd frightened her beloved pet. “Of course it would be yours. You should know better than to bring an animal like that to a family gathering, but Laurelie spoils you.”

“But Waddles _is_ family. So he definitely belongs at family gatherings, just like Jason Funderburk-” Greg’s explanation was cut off when Wirt nabbed him around the middle and picked him up much like Mabel did Waddles, both brothers having been quick to follow when the younger was right on Mabel’s heels.

“Shh, Greg,” Wirt hissed in his ear, voice barely above a whisper.

“You shh.”

The man regarded them with narrowed eyes, lips pinched tightly at the corners in disapproval. “What is this?”

“They're staying with us, Ben.” Laura laid a hand on her brother's arm, a second woman who looked similarly to Kayla making faces behind his back.

“So you brought them to a family gathering. Honestly, Laurelie, you’re too lenient on these children. If I had kids-”

“Which you don't. For good reason.”

“Quiet, Margaret.”

She rolled her eyes, elbowing him sharply as she stepped in front of them. “Hi, kids.”

Mabel worked up a smile, keeping close to her twin and honorary brothers. “Hi, Aunt Maggie. Did you get a haircut?”

She fluffed the short blonde strands with a laugh. “Sure did. We can’t all have your crazy hair, Mabes. I'd go crazy.”

“You look more like a boy than your own son,” Ben groused.

“Excuse you, I have a daughter and her name is Kayla. Thank you.” She elbowed him again. “How’s baseball going, Dip?”

“Pretty good. First practice is soon and I'm looking forward to the season.” He banded an arm around Wirt’s waist, squeezing encouragingly. “Uh. This is my-” He stumbled over his words, “my boyfriend” catching in his throat. He hadn’t prepared Wirt for his uncle, not really, and there would only be homophobia here. “This is Wirt and his younger brother, Greg.”

“Right, Laura let me know. It's nice to meet you guys. You already met Kayla, I bet.”

“And stole some cookies.” Mabel’s smile brightened. “Did you make the cake? It's gorgeous.”

“Absolutely. Come on. Let's hit the kitchen, and I'll tell you about it. And maybe we'll nab some more cookies.”

Greg wriggled in Wirt’s arms in an attempt to free himself. “Wirt, I want to go to the kitchen and burgle more cookies,” he told him.

“Okay, okay.” Wirt narrowly avoided being accidentally elbowed in the eye and lowered his little brother back to the floor. “Just don’t- don’t spoil your appetite. Make sure you save room for dinner.”

“Aye aye, captain. And cake. Definitely gotta save room for cake.” Greg grinned up at him before latching onto Mabel’s side to stick with her and Waddles in case they needed more defending.

Both brothers had a feeling that they definitely would, Wirt careful not to lean too much against Dipper when he straightened up, his arm around him burning like a brand. It was upsetting, the comforting contact something Wirt had quickly grown used to even before they really knew how much they liked one another, a touch he associated solely with Dipper, now felt like something that was drawing attention to them from an unwanted spectator. After all, if Dipper was nervous enough to refrain from calling him his boyfriend, then this Uncle Ben was even worse than Wirt feared.

Wirt couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with the man, not when he still felt very much in the dark about this particular family member other than the fact he was disliked by most of the family. And not when he was uncertain just where he stood with Dipper’s parents still, well-aware they thought him and Greg odd at times.

Hesitantly nudging Dipper, Wirt forced his gaze on him instead. “You- um- want- want to go to the kitchen, too?” He pursed his lips tightly, annoyed by his inability to just get the simple question out.

“Does he always stutter?”

Laura shook her head, tugging her brother away. “Of course not, but he's fine, Ben. It's an endearing quality.”

Dipper huffed, leading Wirt down the hall rather than towards the kitchen. “Let's go find grandma's cane first.”

“O-okay.” Wirt ducked his head, embarrassed by both comments on his stammering. “I’m sorry.”

Dipper cupped his cheek once the adults were out of sight, pulling him close. “You didn't do anything wrong, pilgrim. It's okay. I was really hoping we wouldn't have to deal with him today, so I didn't warn you. He's kind of... really awful. He's the only one in my family who really freaked out when I came out, y’know? Even dad was just... mildly disappointed. I just- We don’t have to tell him if you- If you don’t want to deal with it, that's fine.”

Wirt shook his head, his hand lifting to rest over the one Dipper had against his cheek. “It’s not- I just don’t want to make things… difficult for you. With your family. Or embarrass you or completely ruin this first impression, but whatever- however you want to deal with this- with us… is fine with me. I’ll be beside you one hundred percent.” He swallowed, then leaned in to claim a brief, but sincere kiss from his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too. I just want to be us, okay? He's the only one who’ll have a problem with it, and I don’t care what he thinks. I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” Dipper pressed a hand to the small of his back, nudging him closer for another kiss.

Wirt’s eyes closed as he focused on enjoying the kiss and the moment alone, arms winding around his shoulders to hold on. “Mm… as long as I don’t have to read any of my poetry, I think I’ll manage. Somehow,” he mused with a smile.

Dipper laughed, rubbing their noses together. “I'm okay with your amazing, sappy poetry being just for me, but I'm totally allowed to brag about my very talented boyfriend. Even though he's cute and shy about it.”

“Not cute and shy,” he protested with a huff, nose wrinkling. “It’s… It’s personal. You’re pretty much the only person who gets to read them - aside from Greg, but that’s without my permission, so he doesn’t count. And I… I like it that way. That they’re only for you. I don’t know. I just know that I feel like I’m gonna be sick at the thought of people actually reading them. But… if you want to brag, then I guess I can’t stop you.”

“It's okay. I get that writing can be personal, so if you just want it between us, that's cool. Just know that, y’know, Mabel also may have read some of it without your permission because it's Mabel.” Dipper shrugged, shifting his hat out of the way to rest their brows together. “Seriously, though, if Uncle Ben gets to be too much, let me know and we'll go out back. Her yard’s kind of small, but no one’ll go out there.”

“Okay. I’ll… I’ll definitely let you know, but I think we can handle it. I mean, we made it through Thanksgiving in one piece. I’m sure we can get through this, too.” Wirt nuzzled him, a small sign of affection before he stepped back and took Dipper’s hand instead. “Now, we’ve got a cane to find, don’t we?”

“Yeah. You'll be a hero among grandmas everywhere.” Dipper laced their fingers, leading his boyfriend down the hall to turn their search into a short tour of the four bedroom home. One was crammed with boxes - “mostly my grandpa’s stuff” - and another was turned into an arts and crafts room that Dipper explained was used for quilts. The third was where they found the cane and the guest bedroom, hidden in the closet. “Uncle Ben’s been trying to move in here since grandpa died, but no one’ll let it happen. Aunt Maggie would move her and Kayla here before that happened.”

“Why does he want to live here so badly?” Wirt asked, curious.

“I don’t know. He says it's because it's not right for a woman to live alone, but mom and Aunt Maggie think he just wants to boss her around.” Dipper shrugged, slipping his hand into Wirt's to lead him out of the room. “Which wouldn’t be a surprise to me.”

“Wow… either way, that’s really dated thinking.” Wirt’s brow furrowed, thinking back to when his own mother lived alone with just him and the nagging she’d had to endure from his grandmother and aunt. “I mean, if she doesn’t want to live alone, that’s one thing, but if she’s fine and if he’s got his own place to live, I don’t see why it should matter. Bossing people around can’t be that fun.”

“Seriously. But I don’t know what the whole situation is or whatever. Sometimes I think grandma would be happier with someone here, but I really don't want anyone to live alone with someone like him. Especially not her. She's too nice.” At the living room entrance, he paused to kiss Wirt’s cheek. “You can go ahead to the kitchen. I'll give this to grandma.”

“Okay.” He smiled, squeezing his hand just before he let go. “See you in a bit. I’ll make sure Mabel hasn’t plied Greg with too many cookies.” Wirt rolled his eyes, mentally latching onto the peace of mind being with Dipper allowed him to have and hoped it would stay strong in the face of his family. Aside from Ben, they did all seem welcoming and willing to let him and Greg participate. Not so different from his own family.

“We both know she has, but Christmas cookies don't count. Just save me a peanut butter. They're the best.” He bumped their hips together and walked into the family room to listen to his uncle complain about Christmas specials and his parents mutter an argument over how long they'd stay. At least his grandmother was as gracious as always, and sat up straighter in her chair to give him a hug.

“What was the little boy’s name?”

“Greg.”

“And he has a pet frog, doesn't he?”

“Mmhm.”

She nodded. “Good, good. I picked them up a little something when Laura told me they'd be coming. Do you think they'll mind?”

Dipper grinned. “I think they'll be okay with it. You always give the best gifts, grandma.”

She beamed, giving his cheek a pat. “Good. You tell Maggie to get that macaroni in the oven if she hasn't already, alright?”

“I will.”

“Abel,” his uncle began as Dipper straightened to walk out. Dipper ignored him. “Abel, for god’s sake, you _will_ answer me.”

“Dipper, honey, please don't be difficult.”

Laura’s soft request had him huffing, but he looked back. “What?”

“I don’t appreciate you bringing a friend and his brother to a family holiday and forcing your grandmother to spend her money on them.”

Dipper squared his shoulders. “Well, it's not your house or your money and no one asked her to buy them presents. And, for the record, Wirt’s my boyfriend so I want him in every part of this holiday.”

“He's your _what_?!” When Ben glared at Laura, Dipper made a break for it. “You let him bring some gay boy into this house?!”

Dipper sighed, jamming his hands into his pockets as he entered the safety of the kitchen. No turning back now.

“Aren’t we all gay? It’s Christmas,” Greg mused thoughtfully, distracted from cookies by sucking on a candy cane Wirt slipped him to keep him busy, the shout easily heard by all in the kitchen. “Is Uncle Ben like Scrooge McDuck? Does he hate Christmas and decking the halls?”

“He's an everyday Scrooge,” Mabel mused, ruffling his hair. Dipper shrugged at the concerned look she sent him and made his way to his boyfriend so he could pull him into a hug.

“Grandma wants you to start the macaroni if you haven't, Aunt Maggie.”

“Already done, Dip. Now don’t start worrying about your uncle, okay? He's just being a jerk because he has nothing better to focus on.”

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Wirt assured him, hugging him back and rubbing between his shoulder blades. “It doesn’t matter what he thinks, we’re not going to let it ruin our good time.”

“Yeah! We’ll don our gay apparel all we want! He can’t stop us.” Greg pumped his arms back and forth, then placed his hands on his hips for a triumphant pose.

Dipper chuckled, nuzzling his boyfriend and steadily relaxing in his embrace. “Someone's probably going to have to explain what that means to Greg.”

Mabel giggled. “You want a cookie, Dipper?”

“Maybe,” he hummed, not stepping away from Wirt.

Wirt pressed a kiss to his temple. “We saved you a peanut butter,” he chuckled. “Had to fight Greg for it.”

“And I almost won. It was the toughest round of rock, paper, scissors that I’ve ever played.”

Dipper laughed. “I guess if my cute boyfriend went to so much trouble to save me one, I'll have to eat it.” He lifted his head, lips brushing Wirt’s cheek before he stepped back to take the cookie his twin held out. A hand quickly found his boyfriend’s, though, not willing to totally lose the connection.

Mabel giggled at them. “I told you, Aunt Maggie. They're totally adorable.”

“Lame,” Kayla teased, sitting on the floor. She had her back against the cabinets and Waddles in her lap, feeding him apple slices.

“Waffles,” Greg agreed.

Color blossomed in Wirt’s cheeks as he squeezed Dipper’s hand, gaze averting as he distracted himself from the teasing by eating a cookie of his own. Attention was to be expected, and at least this was good attention. He much preferred that to being on the receiving end of Uncle Ben’s wrath.

The woman laughed, sending the boys a wink. “Don’t tease, kids. They're very much allowed to be adorable.”

“Thanks, Aunt Maggie.” Dipper tipped his head to rest his cheek on Wirt’s shoulder, releasing his hand to wrap an arm around his waist instead. He wanted to give every bit of comforting contact he could, well aware that every encounter with their uncle was bound to be an unpleasant one.

Wirt huffed, realizing what he was doing and - while appreciating it and relishing the bubble of warmth the familiar touch inspired - reached over to tug the bill of his cap down over his eyes. “You’re not fooling anyone with this sweet, adorable act, you know. You just like showing off.”

Dipper had to bite back the giggle. “What? I'm just leaning against my very adorable boyfriend who's mine and adorable. There aren't any ulterior motives.”

“Mmhm.” Wirt wrapped his arm around him to pull him closer. “Well, I am very much yours, so I’ll give you that.”

Mabel laughed, dropping down to sit beside her cousin and faithful pig. “You’re adorable too, Wirt. Don’t forget that.”

“Alright, Mabel, leave him alone.”

“I can still tease Dipper, right?” She giggled at her aunt’s unimpressed expression, waving a hand. “I'm kidding, I promise.”

“Mmhm. We'll see how long that lasts.”

“Thirty seconds,” Kayla wagered.

Maggie shook her head, turning on the oven light to check in on the food. “So, Wirt, Mabel says you live in Massachusetts. Must be a little different spending Christmas in our lovely, bright sunshine.”

Dipper snorted, thinking of the rain they'd been dealing with.

Wirt kicked him lightly with his ankle, smile polite as he replied. “It’s definitely been different. I keep expecting to have to go out and shovel the driveway or wear extra layers. It’s kind of nice to not worry about that.”

“Where we come from, all the leaves are brown and the sky is gray,” Greg said matter-of-factly while his brother rolled his eyes at what were actually song lyrics. “We were California dreaming on a winter's day! And now we’re here!”

“You'd be safe and warm if you were in L.A,” Maggie added with a laugh, appreciating him. “I'm surprised you'd be willing to come all this way after dealing with these energetic twins over Thanksgiving.”

“They love us,” Mabel explained matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, we missed them. I wish we could see them every day,” Greg added, his tone wistful as he looked from Mabel to Dipper and Wirt. “But we live too far away. It’s dumb.”

“One day, baby. We'll see each other all the time, you'll see,” Mabel assured him, confident in her vision of the future.

Dipper smiled. “Until then, we'll just have to be happy talking to each other as much as possible.” With nothing, particularly not any demons, interfering with their communications.

So far, the past few weeks had been very much free of demonic interference, but that didn’t stop either of them from making sure their phones were always on, test texts a constant back and forth. It was steadily becoming routine to check on one another, and Greg and Mabel by extension, every few minutes, if possible. Class and sleeping did get in the way of that sometimes. As much as Wirt was growing used to this, his phone like a lifeline, he was relieved to not need the device while in California. With Dipper and Mabel under the same roof as him and Greg, they didn’t need to fear texts not going through or phones disconnecting. It would have to do until they could be together all the time, just like Mabel said. Wirt rested his cheek against Dipper’s head, lips quirking up at the lack of distance between them with his boyfriend’s growth spurt working to erase it.

“Why can’t me and Wirt and Jason Funderburker just move to California?” Greg was still wondering

“Because wouldn’t you miss Mom and Jonathan?” Wirt hummed.

“They can come, too.”

“Maybe we can move to Massachusetts,” Dipper hummed.

“Grandma would cry,” Kayla pointed out, both her and Mabel giggling at his bland look. “So who's Jason Funderburker?”

“Our frog!” Greg lit up at the thought of his frog. “Me and Wirt found him and named him for good luck.”

“That sounds cool. You didn't bring him with you?”

“No. Mom said he’d probably feel better being at home and that Mr. and Mrs. Pines would have their hands full with me and Wirt as it is,” Greg explained.

“Speak for yourself,” Wirt huffed.

“You’re the one Mom said would cause the most trouble.” Greg grinned at him, his chest puffing out. “I’m an angel.”

The twins laughed. “The best angel ever,” Mabel assured him while Dipper hid his grin in Wirt's neck.

“Oh my gosh. If he’s an angel, then I’m a punk rebel.” Wirt rolled his eyes.

“Well, you do already have a-” Greg paused when Wirt stared at him hard, changing gears abruptly. “Tape player. Punks like alternative music. Fight the man!”

“Okay?” Kayla didn't quite buy that, glancing at the twin more likely to spill. It was a surprise when Mabel switched gears.

“Thankfully, he's a punk who knows how a kitchen works. Unlike his goober boyfriend.”

“Oh my god, don't-”

“Yesterday, he melted a cereal bowl.”

“Can we not?”

Kayla laughed, glancing at her cousin. “Wow, Dipper. How’d you manage that one?”

“I didn't know the stove was on, okay?”

“He was trying to be helpful and sweet by getting his own breakfast all by himself.” Wirt grinned, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You almost succeeded.”

Dipper huffed. “Yeah, well, at least it was just one bowl and mom's been wanting to get rid of the plastic ones anyway.”

“Have you melted more than one bowl before?” Wirt chuckled.

“Uh.”

Mabel laughed. “There’s a reason we only have four. Three now. We used to have eight.”

“I'm a busy guy, okay? I don’t have time to wait around for food to cook.”

“Or enough time to actually pour milk and cereal in a bowl,” Mabel teased.

“That’s okay. Wirt can do it for him,” Greg volunteered his brother, giving his leg a pat. “He’s pretty good at getting the best milk to cereal ratio.”

“I’m glad you approve of my cereal making finesse,” Wirt deadpanned.

“And he makes good toast!”

“Someone in that relationship has to,” Kayla laughed.

“Kids?” Laura peaked into the kitchen, fingers laced. “Your grandma wants us to open presents.”

“Presents? Before Christmas?” Greg clapped his hands to his cheeks in shocked awe before sending a winning smile Laura’s way. “I like your style, Mrs. Pines. C’mon, Mabel! I want to see what you got for Christmas!”

Mabel giggled. “They're grandma presents, Greg. Before Christmas specials.”

“And I heard that you've got something to open too,” Dipper put in, giving Wirt’s hand a squeeze. “You might too.”

“What?” Wirt fought not to gape like a fool, but couldn’t help the way his jaw dropped. “But we’re not- we weren’t expecting-”

“Surprise early presents are even better than regular, early, grandma presents!” Greg gasped, tugging on Mabel’s sleeve. “Let's go see!”

She nodded, sweeping him up for a tight hug. “Yeah!” She scurried out with him, just barely heeding her mother's request to not run inside.

Kayla rose with a stretch, letting her own mom and Laura walk out before meeting Wirt and Dipper at the door. “You guys ready for this one-man firing squad? Us and Waddles.” The pig in question grunted and trotted out to follow Mabel to the living room. “Waddles seems remarkably unconcerned.”

“The joys of being a pig,” Dipper mused, then glanced at his boyfriend. “Just stick with me, pilgrim. I'll keep you safe, even from him.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Wirt knocked their shoulders together, smile soft, though worry lingered at the edges. “My shield. But you know…” He lowered his voice a touch, letting Kayla head out behind Waddles as they brought up the rear. “If we can face a literal demon, then I think we can take on your uncle. And by literal demon, I mean Aunt Jan, though Bill was a decent adversary, too.”

Dipper shook his head, biting back a giggle. “I love you. Oh my god.”

“I love you, too.” Wirt kissed him quickly, wanting to taste some of that amusement before they were indeed fired at.

Dipper gave his hand a squeeze and pulled him into the living room. They stayed away from the chair Ben had claimed, taking up residence on the floor near the tree. The girls and Greg had already taken seats, Waddles’s chin resting on Greg’s knee. Ben still sneered at them, but he said nothing for the moment.

“Mabel, pumpkin, since you're closest to the tree, will you start passing them out?” Their grandmother was sitting up, hands folded atop her cane, and smiling at them all.

“You bet I will! Presents for everyone!”

“Mabel, please don't yell,” Laura reminded her.

“Leave the girl be, Laura. It's Christmas.”

“No one wants to hear the child scream,” Ben muttered.

“Good thing she wasn't screaming then.” The old woman thumped her cane. “Now, Ben, you just behave yourself so we have a nice Christmas.”

“You don’t get presents and Santa doesn’t visit your house if you don’t behave yourself.” Greg nodded sagely, ignoring the way his brother nudged him and slanted him a look for him to behave himself.

“You’re absolutely right, Greg.” Mabel ruffled his hair before setting a small box beside him. “Here, Aunt Maggie!”

She took the package Mabel held up with a smile and a wink. “Let's streamline this. Hand them to me so you don't disrupt old Waddles.”

“Waddles is a precious, youthful bundle.”

“It's a farm animal,” Ben grunted.

The family ignored him in favor of passing out gifts, and Dipper tucked his arm around Wirt’s waist just to hold on and stay close.

Wirt leaned against him in a subtle display of rebellion, though honestly he and Dipper weren’t doing anything wrong. Being together wasn’t wrong at all. Accepting the present passed to him from Dipper's grandmother felt like more of a crime, actually. Like he didn’t quite deserve it. What had he done to win her favor? Well… he supposed he was in love with her grandson. Whether that warranted receiving a present or not was beyond him, but he could get behind that logic and of course didn’t want to seem ungrateful or rude by declining a gift. Especially when his little brother excitedly clung to his own.

“Thanks, Mrs. Dipper and Mabel’s Grandma!” he said right away.

She chuckled. “You just call me grandma, dear, like all the rest of them do. You’re part of the family, too.” Ben scoffed, but his mother continued before he could voice his undoubtedly nasty opinion. “Now if you two new grandkids don't like what I got, you let grandma know and I'll get you the gift receipts.”

“Yes, ma’am, grandma!” Greg gave her a salute, then leaned over to whisper to Mabel. “What’s a gift receipt?”

“It's a thing that'll let you return or exchange your present at the store if you don’t like it,” she replied quietly. “Grandma, can we open them now?”

“Absolutely.” She waved a hand, beaming. “I'm just as eager to see what you all bought me, which you didn’t have to do.”

“Sure we did,” Kayla disagreed, tearing into her wrapping.

Dipper nudged Wirt’s side. “You okay?” he murmured. “Just checking in.”

“Hm? Oh. Yeah, I’m fine.” Wirt nodded, nudging back. “I just- I dunno… wish I’d thought to get her something on behalf of Greg and I.” They’d brought gifts for Mr. and Mrs. Pines, from the Palmer-Whelan family as a thank you as well as a Christmas gift, but not anything for the grandmother.

“You helped Mabel make cookies. That's good enough, pilgrim.” Dipper offered a smile before tugging at his wrapping paper. “Open yours. I'm really curious.”

Wirt fidgeted. “Okay, but you open yours, too. Together.”

Peeling back a corner of the wrapping, Wirt noted the pages of a book. When he uncovered the cover, his eyes lit up and his grip on the gift tightened. It was Yeats, a book of Yeats’ poetry.

“Oh my gosh. Wow. I- I love Yeats. Thank you so much,” he told their grandmother.

“Yeah! Thank you!” Greg was hugging a stuffed frog with one arm and a book with the other, wrapping paper strewn around him. “Look, Wirt! A book on frog facts!”

“Oh, good. So many young people don't appreciate him. Think he's too old. Well, I'm of a mind that old doesn't mean bad.” She winked at him, then turned her smile on Greg and the twins, who were both grinning at their gifts. “You’re very welcome, Greg. When the twins told me you didn't have your frog, I thought you’d like something to hold onto.”

Dipper laughed, turning the pages of the mystery novel he'd gotten. It was the latest in a series he favored, one he hadn’t been able to pick up just yet, so he was eager to soak up every word. “You’re the best, grandma.”

“Now you know we're trying to expand his reading-”

“There’s not a thing wrong with fiction, Michael. You hush and let my grandson enjoy his present. He's my only one, after all.”

“You have two,” Ben argued, and Kayla hugged the handmade dress she'd gotten a little closer.

“I have two granddaughters, Benjamin. You hush too. Now Mabel, what do you think?”

“I think we're going to have to come over more often.” She giggled, opening the package and running her fingers along the butterfly pattern. “These are going to make such a pretty quilt, oh my gosh!”

“Oh, wow, Mabel! That is really pretty!” Greg admired the fabric, stuffed frog already perched on top of his head. “This is already a great Christmas, and it isn’t even Christmas yet.”

“I just have to stitch the thread in, but you bet it will! Kayla, your dress is so nice!”

She smiled, running her fingers over the bright blue fabric. She was still a little wary of trying things on in the girls’ section at stores, and her grandmother’s stitching was as flawless as Mabel’s tended to be. “Yeah, it is. Thanks, grandma.”

“Thanks!” was echoed by the twins.

“Don’t know why you're giving that boy a damn dress. You’re encouraging this mess.”

“Benjamin-”

“You know father never would've allowed a tranny and fags in this house.”

“Well, your father's been gone for fifteen blessed years. This is my house, and if you dare use those words in front of my grandchildren again, I'll expect you to leave.”

Ben rose abruptly and walked out. No one followed. Maggie rose, but only to lay a hand over her mother's. “Love you, mom.”

“I love you too. Now help me up, Maggie. We have some fussing in the kitchen to do. You kids pick out a movie. Enough of you know where I keep them.”

Wirt caught Dipper’s hand in his and gave it a tight squeeze, keeping him tethered to him for the moment. The slurs, while not unfamiliar to him and not entirely unexpected, had been a shock to his system. Even Greg had been surprised by the words, though their meanings went over his head, he noticed their effect on Wirt and the room. He still slid over to his brother and honorary brother, leaning into Wirt to offer his support.

“A movie sounds good,” Greg agreed. “Mabel, Kayla, what kinds are there?”

“All kinds,” Mabel replied, injecting cheer into her tone while Kayla blinked back tears and Dipper laced his fingers with Wirt’s. “Come on. Let's pick an amazing Christmas movie.”

Kayla lifted her chin. “Yeah. Something- something way too cheerful for its own good. You guys can pick, though. I'm gonna try on my dress.”

“I bet you'll look really pretty in it. Won't she, Greg?”

“Yeah! It’s a really good color for you,” Greg assured her, earnest as he sought Kayla’s gaze. “You’ll look like Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty.”

“Thanks.” Her smile was small but genuine before her attention turned to the so-called waffles. “You guys okay?”

“Just Uncle Ben being his normal self,” Dipper muttered. “But yeah. Go change. You'll look great, okay?”

She nodded and sped out just behind Laura, who had left her husband blinking in surprise from the mumbled threat of violence against her brother. He glanced at the four of them before clearing his throat, but he couldn't think of what to say so went after his wife instead.

Dipper sighed, resting his cheek on Wirt’s shoulder. “I'm sorry,” he murmured. “I'm so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I- I feel worse for Kayla anyway, I mean, that’s an awful thing to say and I’m sure things haven’t been easy for her and that was just terrible and it’s not like I like labels anyway, so-” Wirt cut himself off, sighing softly as he let his head rest against Dipper’s. “It’s okay. You can’t help your family. How are you? You sure you’re okay?” he pressed.

“Yeah. It's definitely not the first time he's called me that, and I doubt it'll be the last.” Dipper flipped the poetry book open, shifting gears. “So you know you're gonna have to read some of this to me later, right?”

Wirt nodded, thumb rubbing small circles over the back of Dipper’s hand as he followed his gaze. His heart hurt knowing that his boyfriend had been on the receiving end of slurs like that before, but if something as simple as reading poetry to him would help soothe him and take his mind away from his uncle, then Wirt was open to it. Reading poetry was something he could do. His gaze caught sight of one of the poems Dipper landed on.

“‘All the words that I utter,’” he murmured, reading the words on the page, “‘And all the words that I write, must spread out their wings untiring, and never rest in their flight, till they come where your sad, sad heart is, and sing to you in the night, beyond where the waters are moving, storm-darken’d or starry bright.’”

Dipper looked up, grin flashing. “I'm going to remember that one when you're back home so they can make my sad, sad heart happy and I can remember how big your eyes got when you opened this.”

“They did not. Your sad, sad heart can find other things to entertain it than my stupid expressions.” Wirt nudged him, playful even as his cheeks flushed from Dipper’s bright smile. “But you know, I don’t want you to have a sad, sad heart when we’re not together. I want you happy even when we’re apart. Even though it’s hard. I want to hear your smile in your voice on the phone and feel your excitement rush through my veins. And I’ll do the same for you. Yeah?”

“I think I can manage that. I'm always happy just talking to you. You... you make things easier.”

“So do you.” Wirt leaned in to rub their noses together. “Easier and… bearable. Safe and wanted. It’s hard to be sad knowing you’re mine. Impossible really.”

Dipper used the proximity to steal a kiss. “All that said, though, I'm glad you're right here. By my side, right where I want you most.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” Wirt made sure to catch his eye with a warm, adoring look. “I love you, Dipper.”

It was still a thrill to hear those words, no matter how often they were said. “I love you too, Wirt.” He tugged him closer for a second kiss because two was much better.

“Arthur Christmas!” Mabel called, Greg’s cheer of agreement following, and Dipper laughed against his boyfriend’s lips.


	3. Chapter 3

The tree was lit with a soft, colorful glow. The collection of Pines family ornaments illuminated wherever one was lucky enough to be placed by a small bulb. Wirt knelt down at the base of the Christmas tree, tapping the ornament of the dog sitting on top of a globe with a small smile. Amidst the gifts he sat before, he tucked another into the pile. It was labeled “To Greg, From Santa,” the gift one that his mom slipped him before they left, to keep up Greg’s belief in Santa Claus for another year. 

There was one for him, too, though he’d found out years ago that Santa didn’t truly exist in the way the movies pictured. Again, it was to keep up Greg’s belief, so as the good big brother he was still trying to be, he hid their presents from Santa for the seven-year-old to stumble upon come morning. The rest of their presents from their family would be waiting for them when they got home, but these were special. These needed to be found on Christmas Day.

Greg had pestered Mabel and Dipper all night over the logistics of Santa getting into their house without a chimney, finally placated with the simple answer that not all children had homes with chimneys and Santa would never let them go without presents for such a silly thing. If he could make it around the world in one night, then he could certainly make it inside a house without a chimney. Some Christmas cookies had been set aside with a glass of milk and carrots for the reindeer before Greg had gone for his bath. 

Wirt could only hope that his little brother wouldn’t go poking about the Pines’ Christmas tree again before bed, well-aware that throughout the night Greg would be listening for any sound of Santa. Wirt wasn’t confident enough in his sneakiness to manage it without Greg spotting him after bedtime. Just to be sure, he pushed his and Greg’s present to Mabel further in front of it to conceal it, then moved one of Mabel’s presents to Dipper to hide his own. Thankfully, Christmas Eve presents were all carefully stacked off to the side.

“Very sneaky,” Dipper teased, dropping down beside him with two mugs of hot chocolate. “You almost done, Santa? Mabel’s only going to be able to distract Greg with the judge and Waddles for so long.”

Wirt grinned, taking the offered mug gratefully. “Bath time’s over then? Guess I shouldn’t be surprised with the promise of Christmas Eve presents waiting.”

“Yeah. He's quick when he thinks - well, knows - that there's a reward in store.” Dipper shifted back to lean against the wall, though not before stealing a candy cane off the tree to stir in his hot chocolate. Wirt was handed one with a smile.

His was stirred in as well, until the candy cane cracked from the heat and broke in two. He hooked the top of it on the edge of the mug, then he slid over to sit beside Dipper, their shoulders touching as they were supported by the wall. His thumbs rubbed over the smooth, glossy mug while he cradled it with both hands, and the soothing aroma of peppermint and cocoa and pine enveloped him as he sat there, nestled with his boyfriend. It was perfectly Christmas.

“So, after opening Christmas Eve presents, are there any other traditions you guys do?” he asked, taking a cautious sip of hot chocolate.

“Nope. Mabel and I watch a couple movies, whatever she's in the mood for, and mom and dad do their thing. I'm pretty sure they wrap presents, but we're not allowed in their room to find out.” Dipper grinned. “Want to grab a blanket and start a Christmas Eve cuddling tradition?”

“I like the sound of that. Cuddling, cocoa, and movies sound like my kind of holiday tradition.” Wirt pecked the curve of his lips with a kiss, then gave his knee a pat. “Should we let Mabel off the hook yet before we get really invested in our Christmas Eve cuddling?”

“If we have to, I guess.” Dipper sighed dramatically before rising. “Don’t go anywhere. We've got a prime spot for Christmas Eve presents.” His mug was carried to the stairs so he could shout, “Mabel! Mom said you and Greg get down here before you end up with lukewarm chocolate!”

“Coming!” Mabel called.

“I like all kinds of hot chocolate!” Greg bounded over to the top of the stairs, dressed in his pajamas for the night and hair still damp from his bath. “You can’t discriminate against the lukewarm hot chocolate, Dipper.”

“I'm just relaying the words of mom, shortstop. They're law, even on Christmas Eve.”

Mabel appeared behind Greg, cat on her heels and pig in her arms. “Hot chocolate means Christmas Eve presents! Then it's movies, then bed. Santa doesn't come without the bed part, which is the worst.”

“Don’t be a bad influence,” Dipper chided, his twin sticking her tongue out.

“I’m gonna catch him this year for sure!” Greg puffed out his chest as he hopped down the steps one at a time. “There’s only so many places for him to get in without a fireplace.”

“You mean every other possible way besides a fireplace?” Wirt couldn’t help overhearing them, offering his two cents from where he continued to hold his and Dipper’s place by the tree.

“Exactly, brother o’ mine!”

Mabel set Waddles on the floor once she reached it, their cat deciding to sprawl on a step where he would no doubt end up in someone's way later. “Santa is a very tricky person, baby, but we'll do our best.” She loved every second of keeping this mystery alive for the boy, having been crushed to discover that Santa wasn’t real once her parents had deemed her old enough to know the truth.

Dipper shook his head, returning to Wirt’s side. “Good luck.”

“As a Mystery Best Friend, I don’t think I need luck, but I’ll accept it anyway! Now where’s that hot chocolate?” he hummed to himself, skipping ahead towards the kitchen.

Mabel followed, the ever faithful Waddles on her heels. “Hot chocolate!”

Dipper laughed, tipping his head to rest his cheek on Wirt’s shoulder. “He'll probably be out by nine. Maybe ten if he wants to be really stubborn.”

“Well, he is pretty stubborn.” Wirt let his head rest against Dipper’s. “Don’t know where he got that from.”

“Hm. He kinda reminds me of his brother.” Dipper slid an arm around him, content to be close and surrounded by Christmas. “I think after Halloween, this is my favorite holiday.”

Wirt elbowed him in the side lightly for the stubborn remark before settling against him. “Yeah, me too,” he mused quietly. “It definitely was when I was a kid, like little-little, but then it stopped for a while, mostly because it didn’t feel like I belonged. We usually spend Christmas with Jonathan’s parents, see, so it was like… they were all a family. Him and Mom and Greg and Greg’s grandparents. They didn’t- they didn’t need _me_. So Christmas just kind of sucked for a while, until I stopped being such a jerk. But I’ve always loved the sentimentality of it. The old carols and the decorations and the feeling that comes along with it. Pure nostalgia, bittersweet yet still too tempting to resist.”

Sighing, Dipper shifted just a little closer. The step, the half - they weren't labels Dipper had any experience with, but he could still sympathize with his boyfriend. “You’re very needed.”

Wirt’s lips quirked up, smile slight against the lip of the mug. “I know.” After a small sip, he tilted his head to brush a peppermint-flavored kiss to the corner of Dipper’s mouth. “You are, too, you know.”

“Yeah?” He shifted to brush their lips together. “I'm really glad you're here for this Christmas. I know it's not home.”

Wirt shrugged. “It’s home enough. You make it like home. It’s hard to feel out of place with you. And there really isn’t anyone else I’d rather spend this Christmas with.”

“Oh my gosh, you guys spend half your time just complimenting each other. You're the sappiest waffles in the world. Aren’t they, Greg?”

Dipper rolled his eyes while Mabel plopped down across from them. “Maybe if we got more than five minutes alone, we could move the conversation along.”

“I have my doubts, bro-bro.”

“Waffles are supposed to be sappy, though. At least the best kinds are. They’re covered in syrup!” Greg stepped over Dipper to place himself in Wirt’s lap, briefly knocking the wind from his older brother when he sat. “And syrup comes from tree sap. Thus, sappy.”

“Thanks for that ecology lesson, Greg.” Wirt ruffled his hair with what little wiggle room he had, more or less squished between little brother and boyfriend.

Beaming, Mabel retrieved her camera to snap their picture. This year's Christmas book would be her biggest yet. “He's a very smart little brother.” 

Wirt smiled at her over Greg’s head. “Yeah. He has his moments of brilliance.”

“You’re absolutely right, Wirt. And you know what? I think I’m having another moment right now because I think we should open our Christmas Eve presents. That’s a pretty brilliant idea if I do say so myself.” Greg took a long sip of his hot chocolate to punctuate his very smart idea.

“We will. It's almost time,” Mabel assured him.

“Mom said she'd be out after getting stuff cleaned up in the kitchen, and she'll go grab dad.”

“Aw.” Greg slumped against Wirt’s chest, the older brother resting his chin on top of his head. “Well, that’s okay. I can wait a little longer. What present are you gonna open tonight, Mabel?”

She giggled. “We open the same two every Christmas Eve. And one extra if mom thinks we've behaved enough.”

“So she'll already have a third one picked,” Dipper put in.

“And that one's the big mystery! It could be big or little, silly or serious. I love Christmas.”

“Me too. I’m glad we get to have Christmas with you guys and make it even better than normal. Which is really hard to do,” Greg pointed out. “But which presents are the same two?”

“An-”

“Don’t spoil it, Mabel,” Laura interrupted, heading for the stairs. “It's his first Christmas Eve here.”

“Okay, mom. Are you getting daddy?”

“I sure am. Then it's present time.”

“Woo!”

Dipper grinned at the brothers. “You don’t have too much longer to wait, Greg.”

“Oh boy! I didn’t know there was a surprise to be spoiled! Did you, Wirt?” Greg looked to him expectantly, pleased when Wirt shook his head.

“I didn’t, Greg.”

The seven-year-old’s eyes went wide. “Do you think Mr. and Mrs. Pines know Santa?”

“Um. Pretty sure they don’t since California’s pretty far from the North Pole, but that’s a good guess.” Wirt gave him a squeeze, then let him climb off his lap to sit next to Mabel instead.

Mabel took a sip of her hot chocolate, wiggling in place. “I'm excited! We know what you're opening tonight, and I can't wait! And then tomorrow's Christmas!”

“If you wake me up before five, I'm disowning you as my twin.”

“I will second the whole him disowning you thing,” Wirt chimed in, free to cuddle with Dipper now that he was sans one little brother.

“Just for that, we won’t wake you up til noon and then you’ll get no presents!”

“Pssh. Mom would just make you wait for us to get up,” Dipper countered, Mabel huffing.

“You’re probably right. Rats.”

“Waffles win again.” Wirt nudged Dipper’s shoulder, lifting his mug to clink it against the one cradled by his boyfriend.

“Team Waffles versus… hm… what should our team name be, Mabel?” Greg mused thoughtfully.

“Team Super Awesome Amazing.”

Dipper snorted. “That's a mouthful.”

“Excuse you, it is super, awesome, and amazing.”

“Team SAA,” Greg giggled. “Team SAA will get the most presents!”

“The best presents.” Mabel carefully clinked their mugs together.

“When it comes to presents, I’m pretty sure it’s all subjective what’s best and what’s not,” Wirt chuckled.

“I have a feeling that’s your way of saying me and Mabel aren’t getting the best presents,” Greg pointed out with a huff.

“We'll see, Greg.”

Dipper laughed. “Yeah, we will. Just wait til morning.”

“Do you promise it’ll actually be morning and not afternoon?” Greg asked, doing his best not to pout as Santa was still watching and keeping score, glancing between the two of them.

Wirt pretended to think it over, but didn’t last long, grin cracking as he nodded. “Yeah, we promise. It will still be morning.”

“Good.”

“Just not too early,” Michael insisted as he crossed by to sit on the edge of his recliner. He held an armful of packages that immediately caught their attention. “And two of you know the rules.”

“Oh, yeah. We're not allowed to wake them up til we've made orange juice and brushed our teeth for pictures,” Mabel explained while Laura joined them with her own mug of hot chocolate warming her hands. “But that's okay because we get to look at our stockings early.”

“Mabel, honey, you know better than that.”

The twins exchanged looks and hid their grins behind their mugs. “It's a tradition, mom. Christmas is all about traditions,” Dipper reminded her.

“I think I can live with these Christmas traditions. I like orange juice and stockings, so it sounds like fun to me,” Greg piped up. “It sounds kinda like our Christmas except me and Mom and Dad are the ones waking Wirt up and we can’t do that without a pot of tea.”

“Not true. Not on Christmas,” Wirt corrected him. “And you know that, you always get me up before Mom and Jonathan anyway.” Not to mention he made his own pot of tea. The older brother rolled his eyes when Greg stuck his tongue out at him with a giggle.

Mabel laughed, toasting him with her mug. “We’ll be getting you up this year too! You and Dipdop’ll be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.”

“I really doubt that.”

“I don’t know, your hair is pretty bushy,” Wirt teased, toying with what was peeking out from under his hat. 

Dipper laughed, tilting into the touch rather than away. “That’s fine since you've got such bright, pretty eyes.”

“Oh my gosh, mom, they'll do this for hours. Time for presents!”

Laura chuckled, sitting on the floor by her husband's feet. “Alright. It's getting pretty late if you kids are going to watch your movie before bed. Santa won't come if you're not sleeping.”

“Will he come if he _thinks_ we’re sleeping?” Greg asked with a giggle.

“I don’t think that’s how it works, Greg.” Wirt looked at him knowingly, leaving Dipper’s hair be so they could get to the presents. “Remember the song? He knows when you’re awake.”

“Well, I think most people know when I’m awake, but if I was really secret and quiet about it-”

Wirt’s lips quirked up in an amused smile. “Santa’s pretty secret and quiet, too. In fact, I think he’s the expert on secret and quiet.”

“He'd have to be!” Mabel pointed out, taking a present from her mom. “Quick and secretive like a spy.”

“Santa doesn't really evoke images of spies.” Dipper snorted, passing the present to Wirt. He was surprised when two more for him followed, but Laura winked at his questioning glance. Grinning, he kept the next three for himself.

Wirt blinked at the presents he’d been given. “Oh- um… a-are you sure…? These are for me?”

“They say your name, pilgrim. They're definitely yours.”

“Just like these three have Greg’s!” Mabel laughed, ruffling his hair after setting the packages in front of him. “And mine. Perfect!”

Laura smiled. “Michael and I decided that we wanted the two of you to be as much a part of our Christmas traditions as possible. That includes Christmas Eve.”

Wide-eyed and hesitant, Wirt grappled with insisting that it was too much and accepting it. This was what they wanted, after all. To be a part of each other’s lives completely, and that included their families. He wanted Mr. and Mrs. Pines to approve of their relationship and him and Greg and- 

He swallowed and nodded, keeping all three gifts close. “Thank you. Very much. It really means a lot. To both of us,” he added hastily, including his little brother in case Greg forgot in his excitement.

“Yeah! Thank you!” Greg chirped, admiring each wrapped gift with delight - like he’d won his own mini-lottery. “Can we open them together? Or do we take turns? Does youngest go first?”

Mabel giggled, already tearing into one of hers. “Open the soft one first, then the other two.”

Dipper grinned, nudging Wirt’s side. “Open yours. I want to see.”

Wirt’s cheeks pinkened, but he did as his boyfriend asked - or demanded rather - and peeled away the wrapping from the softer package just as his little brother did. Warm, flannel, navy blue pajamas were hidden behind the colorful paper, nice and thick for winter and much like the kind he tended to wear most of the time anyway. He looked up just in time to see Greg oohing over his own set of green pajamas.

“Can I put these on instead of the ones I already put on?” Greg asked, tying the sleeves of the shirt around his shoulders like a cape for the time being. 

“Sure, Greg. You can wear whatever pajamas you want.” Wirt folded his up carefully, glancing at Dipper. “Your turn.”

Dipper laughed, kissing his cheek as he opened his. “You've gotta wear them. It's Christmas tradition.”

“Yeah, it is!” Mabel held up an indigo nightgown, the pattern flannel. Neither twin was surprised when Dipper’s set was the same dark color, both ignoring it. “Ooh, it's soft.” Mabel draped hers over Greg’s head playfully. “Isn't it?”

“Yeah. I like ‘em!” Greg pet Mabel’s nightgown as Wirt admired Dipper’s pajama set. “We’ll all be kinda matchy! Perfect start to our Christmas! Now what’s next?” He started unwrapping the smaller of the next two presents, gasping when he unveiled an ornament of a frog playing the drums. “Oh boy! This is the best ornament ever! It’s like Jason Funderburker!”

“That's what I thought! Dipper and I picked out your ornaments. Wirt! Open yours! It's so cute.”

“Mabel, honey, calm down.”

“She's fine, Laura. It's Christmas Eve.”

The twins exchanged glances and eye rolls before Dipper nudged his boyfriend. “Come on. I want to see if you like it.”

“Okay,” Wirt laughed as he unwrapped it. “Sorry I’m not as fast as Greg is over there.”

His lips twisted into an adoring smile as he unveiled his ornament. It was a teddy bear playing a clarinet, something that went with Greg’s thematically, but stood out as his own. He rubbed his thumb over the bear’s face, then lightly touched the clarinet clutched between two paws.

“So is this year’s theme animals and instruments?” he asked, leaning into Dipper. “I love it. It’s perfect.”

Dipper pressed a kiss to his temple. “It was the theme as far as you and Greg were concerned. We saw his first and when I found out that you like bears, we found this one.”

“We had to go to six different stores,” Mabel lamented, tearing into her gift. It was a pink elephant wearing a beret, painting on a tiny canvas. “It was worth it!”

“Oh, that one’s really cute!” Greg cooed, admiring Mabel’s and holding his up beside it. “They’re gonna be friends.”

“You seriously didn’t have to look at six different stores.” But Wirt was still touched that they did anyway, and turned his head to capture Dipper’s lips in a quick kiss.

“Dipper! You have to open yours so our ornaments can be Ornament Best Friends!”

“Okay, okay.” Again, neither twin was surprised to see that his matched Mabel’s. His elephant was blue, wearing a labcoat, and holding a beaker. Dipper shook his head. “Thanks, mom and dad.”

“Thank you!” Mabel echoed. “They're both cute! Last one, Greg. Let's see it!”

Wirt pressed a kiss to Dipper’s temple, staying close while Greg tore into the last one. “Whoa! A magical science kit! Look, Wirt, it says I can make snow! We can have snow here after all!”

“Wow, Greg. That’s pretty awesome.” Wirt grinned when Greg crawled over to show him the box in more detail. “We’ll definitely have to try it out.”

“Yeah! Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Pines!” Greg bounced excitedly, hugging the kit to his chest as he pointed to Wirt’s third present. “Yours next, brother o’ mine.”

“Okay, you want to help me open it?”

“Oh boy, yes please,” he chirped, peeling away one side of the wrapping paper as Wirt tackled the other. “It’s a book! You love books, and hey. Isn’t this the same guy you got a poetry book about from Dipper and Mabel’s grandma?”

“Yeah, it is.” It was a biography on Yeats, a nice paperback edition and the perfect addition to his growing library on poets and poetry. “Thank you so much. I only know a little bit about Yeats’s personal life outside his poetry, so this is perfect.”

Laura beamed, her own gifts carefully stacked to the side, as yet unopened while she waited for the kids. Michael’s had been torn open with little preamble, his wrapping paper shoved into a black trash bag. “We're glad you both like them.”

Mabel grinned, tugging at the paper of her third gift to unveil a set of looms and a small quilting kit. “Oh, perfect! Now I can really get to work on the blocks grandma gave me.”

Dipper laughed. “No surprise there. You'll be making quilts as much as sweaters if we can find space.”

“Maybe in the basement,” she hummed.

“Can I have one of your quilts when you start making them?” Greg asked. “I’ll make it my new blanket for my bed!”

“Greg, you can have the first really good one. I promise.” Mabel ruffled his hair. “What’d you get, Dipper?”

“A book on the history of baseball.” He scanned the back, nodding. “It looks cool.”

“I might have to borrow that from you so I know what the heck’s going on when you play,” Wirt chuckled, glancing at it as well.

Grinning, Dipper knocked their shoulders together. “If you actually read it, I'll definitely let you.”

“No, when I borrow books I just use them as coasters- of course I would actually read it.”

Dipper laid his cheek on Wirt’s shoulder, content to nestle close. “It’s yours when you want it, then.”

“Alright, kids, hang up your ornaments and get into your pajamas. Oh, Michael, hang mine with- thank you. When you come back down, there might be some popcorn waiting for you.”

“Woohoo!” Mabel cheered, hopping up. “Come on, corporal. We’ve got to find the best place for your very first ornament with us!”

“Can it be up high? But not too high,” he requested reasonably.

Wirt finished off his hot chocolate, then set the mug and his presents aside to stand. He picked up his ornament, holding his free hand out to help Dipper up so the two of them could place their ornaments up alongside their siblings’.

Dipper was more than happy to keep a hold of his hand, hanging his ornament. “Now it's Christmas.”

“It's Christmas after I put my PJs on,” Mabel disagreed with a laugh, scooping Greg up so he could put his ornament with theirs. “It's really pretty.”

“Yeah,” Wirt agreed with a hum, giving Dipper’s hand a squeeze as he admired the tree, his and Greg’s ornaments fitting right in with Dipper and Mabel’s. 

Though, Wirt had to admit some of his boyfriend’s seemed a little forced. Mabel’s too, on some level. While the matching seemed like a given, taking in all of the ornaments over all the years really hit it home that this was what they’d grown up with. Everything matching, but still very much gendered, shoeboxing Dipper in “smart” and “boy” and Mabel in “whimsical” and “girl.” Not that Dipper wasn’t smart and Mabel whimsical, but they were both so much more than that. Than labels.

As the four of them headed upstairs to change into their new pajamas, Wirt stopped Dipper and pulled him into his bedroom. “Hang on. There’s… there’s something I want to give you. Just us,” he told him as he cleared his throat and squeezed his hand again before letting go. 

He dug into his suitcase, pulling out a small bundle of tissue paper tied with a thin red ribbon. It wasn’t much bigger than the palm of Wirt’s hand. Cheeks warm and heart fluttering, he held it out for Dipper to take.

“This isn’t your Christmas present, but it’s just something I thought we should have.”

Dipper took it carefully, testing the weight in his palm. He couldn't resist leaning in to steal a kiss, his blush too cute. “We?”

“Yeah, ‘we.’” Wirt fidgeted, knocking Dipper’s shoulder lightly. “And, you know… something for you that Mabel doesn’t have a copy of. Not that she’s not getting one, too, it’s just hers is made out of macaroni and construction paper or whatever Greg got his hands on, so it’s different.”

“Yeah? I guess you noticed that mom and dad really go in for the whole twin thing.” Dipper shrugged, plucking at the paper. “It's not, like, a huge thing? It's just...” It was old and a little disheartening to be pigeonholed the way they were. Shaking his head, he opened the little package and his melancholy evaporated on a delighted gasp.

It was a thin, round slice of a tree branch, a heart carved around a “D + W” right in the middle. He turned it over and laughed at the “Our First Christmas” on the back. “Dude! We're so hanging this on the tree. I'm going to put it on my shelf or something after Christmas and then you can have it from summer on. It's so not going in a bucket.”

“You like it?” Wirt was practically beaming at his boyfriend’s reaction. “I looked for, you know, couples’ Christmas ornaments when Mom took me to shop for some, but they were all… I don’t know. They weren’t right. I couldn’t picture any of them being ours. So I made our own.” He shrugged, raking his free hand through his hair. “Probably should’ve put the year on it though, in hindsight.”

“We still can if you want, but I love this. I really love that you made it. That's seriously adorable.” Dipper leaned in for another kiss, this one lingering. “I love you.”

Wirt’s hands fell to cup Dipper’s waist as he kissed him back. “I love you, too. Merry Christmas.” He rubbed their noses together. “The first of many.”

“Merry Christmas, pilgrim.” He grinned and pressed a kiss to the scrunch of his nose. “Now put on your PJs, and I'll grab a blanket for proper Christmas Eve cuddling.”

“Have I told you lately how much I love your plans?” Wirt chuckled, but let go of him to fetch his pajamas, stripping off his sweater in the process and fiddling with the first few buttons of his shirt.

“They are pretty great,” he agreed with a laugh. His cheeks had filled with embarrassing, but pleased, color when Wirt had removed his sweater. He so rarely saw his boyfriend without one unless he was in his pajamas, so it felt good. Good and normal and just comfortable. Dipper walked up, wrapping his arms around Wirt’s middle and pressing his lips to his neck. “Our first Christmas has been my favorite so far.” 

“Mine too.” Wirt paused to lean back against him, unable to suppress a shiver at the light kiss. “I’ve pretty much loved everything about being here with you. I’m… I’m glad you feel the same and that you want me in part of your every day life and family traditions.”

Dipper smiled against his neck, his nip playful. “You fit in my every day and make the old traditions new.”

Wirt laughed, turning to face his boyfriend and gave him a playful spin while he was at it. “That was surprisingly poetic, Dipper,” he complimented, gaze and tone bright and full of love as he looked him over. “Come on, you get in your pajamas, too. And we’d probably better hurry up, lest Mabel and Greg eat all the popcorn.”

“We can't let that happen.” But Dipper didn’t move just yet, mischief in his eyes. “One more before we get moving.”

Wirt’s lips twisted to the side in a knowing smile. “Just one? You sure about that?”

“Well, two’s better but that seemed pretty greedy.” Dipper brushed their lips together. “But, I mean, if you're offering...”

“I’ve come to expect greediness when it comes to you,” he teased, staying close though he kept the second kiss just out of reach. “Lucky for us I can be pretty greedy, too.” His lips pressed to Dipper’s in a firmer kiss, one that lingered just a heartbeat or two more.

“I like how much you enable me being greedy. I could get very used to it, though, so be careful.” Dipper nipped his lip playfully before stepping back. His pajamas and new ornament were gathered and he quickly escaped to the bathroom to change. 

By the time he returned, Wirt was fiddling with the last button on his pajama shirt, having been one off the first time he’d tried. He glanced up from making sure they were straight, sheepish smile toying at the corners of his mouth. Together they grabbed a blanket just as Greg hurried past with Judge in his arms, Mabel right behind him to lay claim to preferred movie-watching spots.

“Do you guys have a Christmas movie you always watch on Christmas? We don’t, we switch it up sometimes, but we have movies we always make sure to watch around Christmas at least. What do you want to watch? Do you like Olive the Other Reindeer? That’s a good one,” Greg babbled to Mabel, and Dipper since he knew he could hear him, too. “And Elf, and The Santa Clause and The Grinch and The Muppet’s Christmas Carol and-”

“We get it, Greg. There are a lot of Christmas movies you like,” Wirt laughed, following him and Mabel once Dipper had the blanket.

Dipper grinned. “We switch it up too.”

“Yep! And those are pretty great suggestions. We can watch a couple of short ones! Actually, we can watch movies until our eyes close.” Mabel paused on the steps. “Well, our eyes. Not Dipper’s.”

He rolled them. “It's Christmas Eve. I'll go to bed in plenty of time so Santa can come. Have you guys seen _Prep & Landing_ yet? That one's good.”

“No! I’ve been wanting to see it though!” Greg exclaimed excitedly. “Can we watch it first?”

“Sure!” Mabel skipped the last step. “The waffles can set it up while we locate popcorn!”

“Why do I feel like we always end up with all the hard work, pilgrim?”

Wirt laughed, stepping behind him with his hands on his shoulders to nudge him towards the TV. “Come on, boyfriend of mine. Gotta stay on the nice list for one more night, and if we’re quick, I might make it worth your while.” He leaned around him to kiss his cheek.

“That sounds like bribery, and I'm totally okay with that.” Dipper went willingly, depositing the blanket on the couch and heading for their entertainment center for their DVD collection.

“Isn’t bribery something that should go on the naughty list?” Greg wondered as he followed Mabel to the kitchen. 

“Not when it’s for a good cause,” Wirt decided. “And Christmas movies seem like a good enough cause to me.”

“Same,” Dipper agreed with a laugh, fishing out the movie. He popped it into the player, getting everything turned on and letting the early credits roll rather than skipping to the menu. “So I want to hang up our ornament and then maybe get that promised reward. Sound good?”

“I think that’s fair.” Wirt scanned the available branches left on the tree, searching for an ideal spot for their ornament. “How about here?” He pointed to an area that wasn’t too crowded already, just a little bit lower than the middle of the tree and facing the couch. “I don’t think it’ll get in any other ornament’s way here.”

“And we can admire it during our movie and snuggle session.” Dipper retrieved it from the blanket’s lumpy folds and hung it, fingers reaching for Wirt's once it was up. “I've got a new favorite ornament.”

“I don’t know, it’s kinda a tie for me.” He smiled at him, fingers intertwining as he held onto Dipper. “I do really like the one you picked out.”

“Good. It really was worth searching. As soon as we found Greg’s, I knew what I wanted for you.” Dipper tugged him to the couch. “Come on, man. Sit with me.”

Wirt raised an eyebrow, planting his feet to make Dipper work for it a little. “You’re making it sound like something I don’t want to do.”

Dipper laughed, cupping his hips and moving closer instead of pulling at him. “What, do you not want to sit under a warm blanket, snuggled close to me?” He nibbled on his lower lip. “We could be all warm and toasty and cutely romantic.”

“Of course, I do. You just sound pretty demanding to me.” His arms went around his shoulders easily, kissing him soundly, slowly, to spread the warmth of their love through them both, flaring deep in their chests. “But you make a really… really good offer,” Wirt hummed as he let their lips brush twice more, ending the kiss just as slowly as he’d begun it. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he tugged Dipper closer and turned so they could both fall to the couch together. “So I think I’ll let you boss me around a little.”

Dipper laughed, fingers bunching in Wirt’s pajamas as he clung to him. “Just listen to me, and I'll make sure it's worth your while.” He wiggled enough to free the blanket, throwing it over them both, and nibbled on his neck. 

“Vampire attack!” A throw pillow was flung at Dipper, but Greg’s aim was off and it bounced off Wirt face instead. 

“I didn’t realize vampires attacked with couch cushions,” Wirt replied dryly once the shock of being hit wore off, stubbornly snuggling closer to Dipper and lifting the blanket up higher to shield them.

Greg placed one hand on his hip, the other holding a small bowl of popcorn. “ _I’m_ not the vampire, Wirt. Dipper’s the one sucking your blood. I’m just looking out for you, brother o’ mine.” He reached into the bowl and sprinkled some kernels onto Dipper’s head. “Begone, foul spirit.”

“Greg!” Dipper laughed, shaking his head to get them away. “Vampires can't be stopped by popcorn.”

“I bet they could if you got creative,” Mabel disagreed, setting two bowls on the side table beside the couch. The third she'd been carefully balancing was hugged to her chest. “But Dipper’s not cool enough to be a vampire, Greg. We'd know by now if he was one.”

“Oh, right. He wouldn’t be able to eat garlic if he was a vampire.” Greg nodded, as if that was the only legitimate reason for Dipper not being a vampire. “Or admire his muscles in the mirror.”

Mabel snorted, and Dipper just rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Mabel.”

“I said nothing. And it's movie time anyway!”

“Movie time!” Greg chirped, balancing his bowl of popcorn on his head as he toddled over to sit on the floor in front of the TV.

Wirt leaned into Dipper, his lips brushing along his jaw despite his grin. “You are perfectly within your right to admire yourself in the mirror, you know. You are pretty… hot, after all.” His cheeks warmed at the admission, though not the first time saying it aloud, it was still an embarrassing thing to say, no matter how true. 

Dipper laughed, giving him a fond squeeze. “I’d rather just let you admire me so I can admire you right back.”

“I wouldn’t mind that.” Wirt shifted closer to him and adjusted the blanket around them to keep them warm.

Greg scoffed, shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Sounds like the logic of a vampire to me.”

Wirt plucked a piece of popcorn from his own bowl and tossed it at his brother. The kernel bounced off the back of his head and Greg giggled, wiggling closer to Mabel. “Thought you were into ghosts, not vampires.”

“I can’t limit myself to only one supernatural creature, Wirt,” he replied with the sound logic of all of his seven years. “I accept all kinds.”

“Very progressive, Greg. I like it.”

Dipper hummed. “If I was a vampire, would you still let me date your brother?”

“I don’t know.” Greg tapped his chin as he considered it. “You’d need to agree to all my terms, I think.”

Mabel giggled, popping a fluffy piece into her mouth. “What are the terms?”

“One: he can’t drink all of Wirt’s blood. That’s a given.” Greg held up one finger, then brought up a second. “The other two aren’t both necessary, but one of them would need to happen. Either he has to turn me into a vampire, or turn himself into a bat whenever I want.”

The twins laughed, Dipper tucking his face against Wirt’s neck. “I don't think Wirt would let you be a vampire.”

“As long as he goes to bed on time and does his half of the chores, I can’t complain,” Wirt replied with a chuckle, as amused by Dipper’s nuzzling as he was by Greg’s theory and attempt to bargain.

“So now I know what I'll have to do if I ever do get unlucky with a vampire.”

Mabel placed a hand over her heart, sighing. “I'd get bitten by a vampire if you didn't want to.”

“Oh my god,” Dipper muttered, deciding to nibble on Wirt’s neck and ignore her.

Wirt squirmed a little, flushing at the scrape of his teeth teasing his skin. “You know, I might too, if that vampire’s as good a kisser as you.” He couldn’t help teasing, his hand finding Dipper’s side under the blanket to stroke soothingly.

“Nope. The only who could ever get their fangs on you would be me in the very unlikely event that I was one.” Dipper nipped with a bit more purpose, seeking a good place to leave a hickey. His adorable boyfriend was as easy to fluster as he was to please.

He laughed, though his blush darkened as he pinched his side in an attempt to distract him. “Stop it, we’re out in the open. Your parents could walk in and see,” he huffed. “Oh my gosh, I don’t even know what I’d do with a vampire boyfriend.”

“Eat a lot less garlic,” Greg advised, turning around to look at them and held his index finger to his lips. “Now shh! The movie’s starting!”

“You shh.” Wirt stuck his tongue out at him while the seven-year-old rolled his eyes.

“Brothers.”

“You got that right, baby.” Mabel laughed, tucking an arm around Greg to keep him snugly by her side.

Dipper’s lips curved against his boyfriend’s skin, the pinch getting him to wiggle but not deterring him. Wirt was just so very, very easy to fluster, and the blush was irresistible. Soft kisses trailed up to his ear, teeth catching the lobe. “Would you still love me if I was a vampire?”

“Just because you’re being impossible right now, I’m going to have to say no,” he laughed, turning his head to try another method of distracting him by capturing his lips with his own in a kiss.

Dipper laughed into it, breaking the kiss to pepper Wirt’s face with light, fond ones. “That’s so not the sweet, supportive boyfriend thing to say.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but I’m not so sure I want puncture marks in my neck and ears since you seem so fond of those places.” Wirt was grinning, the attention causing his heart to flutter and he wiggled closer to his affectionate boyfriend. “It’s for my own safety, really.”

“But it'd be like a permanent hickey. I think I'd put it right... here,” he decided, nipping low on his neck, fingers curling into his shirt to keep him from wiggling away.

Wirt tried nonetheless, though he didn’t try very hard as his breath hitched and heart stuttered in his chest. “It would be multiple permanent hickeys though because you can’t control yourself,” he protested, an embarrassing squeak of a giggle escaping. He ducked his head to change tactics, retaliating instead of distracting and nipped back. “I’d be full of holes if you were my vampire boyfriend. Like swiss cheese.”

Dipper gasped a laugh, head tipping to give him more room. “But if I turned you into a vampire, they'd all heal. Just that initial bite to mark you as all mine forever.”

“And be forced to drink blood for the rest of my life?” Wirt lifted his head to make a face at him, one part unimpressed and one part mildly disgusted. “No thank you. I’m sorry, Dipper, but I don’t know if an eternity with you would be worth all the blood,” he teased, pecking his lips lightly.

“That hurts, man.” Dipper mussed his hair, sticking his tongue out. “Vampires can eat other food as long as they have _some_ blood, and it doesn't necessarily have to be human. The all-blood diet is a myth they perpetuated, same with garlic and crosses. It helps them blend if people have preconceived notions of what they should be.”

Wirt’s grin was slow in growing, caught between entirely too amused and too adoring. “Yeah? That so?” he hummed, ducking his head to continue kissing Dipper’s neck. “What about that sunlight thing? And sleeping in coffins?”

“The sunlight thing is kind of true. You definitely want to avoid it as much as possible, but you won't- mm - won't turn to ash right away. It eats a lot of energy and you need more blood, that's all. So too much is bad. Coffins are- um.” Dipper wriggled against him, anticipation tingling. “They used to be necessary? Because houses were drafty or whatever, so the sun had a higher chance of coming in and coffins were solid and enclosed. Now they're not, like, needed because there are blackout screens and basements. Are you gonna bite or are you gonna just torture me with kisses?”

“Sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry at all. “You’re just so cute when you’re explaining things like that. Had me distracted. Though I didn’t realize my kisses were so torturous. Maybe I’ll just spare you the agony and stop.” Feeling a little bold, a little daring despite the bubble of nerves that Mr. and Mrs. Pines could walk in at any second, Wirt flicked his tongue out to tease and taste as he suckled gently, low on the column of his throat.

“That's-” It was better and worse, Dipper tugging at his shirt. “You’re not being fair.”

“I take it that if I were the vampire, then you’d be the Swiss cheese?” Wirt chuckled, nipping playfully.

“Maybe, but I'd definitely be less complainy swiss cheese. Except that’s not a word, but yeah.” Dipper slipped a hand into his hair, pressing a kiss to his temple. “You’re killing my brain again.”

“Mm. Can’t have that. I like your brain,” he hummed, kissing him again before giving into his boyfriend’s wishes. He worked a small, purple mark beneath the collar of his pajama top with his teeth and lips, following the rhythm of his pulse with each tug against his skin and filling in the space between with flicks of his tongue.

“Mm-” It definitely didn’t get his brain working again. Dipper’s fingers tightened in his hair, eyes closing. “Mm-mm. You’re getting way too good at this.”

A soft sound escaped him as he lightly nudged his head into his hand, muffled against his boyfriend’s neck. Wirt pressed a warm kiss to the hickey before he looked up, unable to mask his delight, hair tousled and cheeks pink. “Yeah? Well… I learned from one of the best, I guess.”

Dipper grinned, completely in love with his cute, shyly wicked boyfriend. “Always happy to help, pilgrim.” He leaned up, pressing kisses along his jawline. “Especially when it comes to you and that really nice, really poetic mouth you've got.”

“I can kinda tell.” A laugh bubbled up as he tipped his head back a little to let him. “Even though it’s not exactly being poetic when you’re demanding I kiss you, but that’s just a minor detail.”

“Mm. Your kisses are poetry all by themselves. Trust me.” Dipper nuzzled him, content to spend as much time as possible. It was the perfect way to spend Christmas Eve, making out and snuggled close to his boyfriend. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Wirt let his cheek rest atop Dipper's head, attention briefly shifting to the television as the animated special started, perfectly content to settle in for the night wrapped up in each other, their siblings close, and their hearts full. “Merry Christmas, Dipper,” he murmured into his hair, a kiss pressed in the curls.

Dipper held him close, lips curving as contentment washed over him. Every day would be Christmas if they could be spent like this. “Merry Christmas, Wirt.”

\----

For once, Mabel wasn’t the first person awake on Christmas in the Pines household. When she cracked an eye open to find a very small somebody trying his best to sneakily climb out of bed, she couldn’t help but giggle sleepily. “Greg,” she faux whispered, already knowing the answer, “what are you doing up so early?”

“It’s Christmas, Mabel,” he whispered back, smile bright. With a little bounce, he hopped to the floor and hurried over to her bedroom door. He cracked it open just to peek out into the hallway, then opened it a little further and tip-toed his way to the top of the stairs.

Grinning, she picked up a tired Waddles and followed him. “Let's go see what Santa brought.”

“Are you sure Santa _really_ knows me and Wirt are here and not back home?” Greg asked, still quiet since it was still a little dark as they went downstairs. The question had been one that he’d posed frequently during the days leading up to Christmas, determined to be sure that the man knew even though he’d told him in his letter and had been told by all three teens on multiple occasions that, yes Greg, Santa knows you’re here.

“Absolutely. Santa would never miss you. He knows we're family.” She set Waddles on the floor, the pig trotting towards the kitchen for his breakfast. “Oh, the tree looks so pretty! I love it.”

“Yeah!” Greg admired it for all of five seconds before darting over to examine the gifts closely. “Look, Mabel! Here’s your gift from Santa! Oh, and there’s Wirt’s! Santa did come for us!” He clapped his hands together, grin bright as he looked back at her. “I never doubted him for a second.”

“Of course not. You've been very adamant in your faith.” Ever indulgent, Mabel wandered closer to explore the stockings. “Oh my gosh! Santa even brought you new stockings! We have to wake our waffles up so they can see too.”

Greg gasped, abandoning the presents in favor of admiring the stockings. “Oh boy! Yeah, leave it to me, general! I know just how to wake them up. I’m an expert.” He jabbed his thumb into the center of his chest, then turned on his heel to venture back upstairs.

Mabel laughed, making her way into the kitchen to start orange juice and feed Waddles his first breakfast. He'd need all his skill to wake Wirt this early, but she didn't doubt that he could do it, especially with Dipper’s inevitable help.

Greg didn’t bother knocking on Dipper’s door. He waltzed right in and climbed up onto his bed, beaming at ob-waffle curled into each other. He had to crawl over Dipper in order to get to his brother, accidentally kneeing him in the gut in the process. Wirt was lying on his side, one arm draped across Dipper, so Greg shoved at him to get him to roll over.

“Well way up north where the air gets cold,” Greg started singing, pushing on Wirt in time with the song. “There’s a tale about Christmas that you’ve all been told!”

“Greg…” Wirt’s brow furrowed as he grumbled, rolling away from Dipper and his brother to face the wall instead and burrowed under the blankets. “‘S too early.”

“A real famous cat all dressed up in red, and he spends all year workin’ out on his sled! It’s the little Saint Nick! It’s the little Saint Nick! Run, run, reindeer!”

Dipper rubbed his stomach, squinting at their intruder. “It's still dark out.”

“Run, run, reindeer!” Greg simply sang again with a little bounce that shook both Wirt and Dipper.

“Oh my god,” Dipper groaned, nabbing Greg and rolling onto his side to trap him between the teens. “No running.”

Giggling, Greg wriggled enough to free both hands and poked Dipper’s cheeks. “Okay,” he conceded. “How about walking in a winter wonderland?”

“No, it's a silent night and all’s calm and not bright because we're still sleeping.” But Dipper playfully rubbed their noses together, awakening despite himself thanks to Greg’s enthusiasm and the realization that it was Christmas.

“If you’re still sleeping, how come you’re talking to me?” Greg laughed.

“I'm a multitasker. It's an acquired skill.” Dipper lessened his grip so he could escape if he wished. “Did Santa come?”

“Yes! So we have to go see what he brought.” Greg did escape, but only just so he could sit up and resume shaking his older brother. “So come on, Wirt. It’s time to wake up. The weather outside might be frightful, but the fire is so delightful!” Wirt merely groaned in response, having successfully drifted back off to sleep during the lull where Greg had been distracted by Dipper.

With a laugh, Dipper worked his arms beneath his boyfriend and tugged him close. “Wirt, you have to get up. I want a Christmas kiss and presents. Greg wants presents.”

A grunt of protest escaped as he curled up to avoid Dipper’s tactics. “‘ll kiss you later,” Wirt mumbled into the blankets, fruitlessly attempting to tug them over his head, unable to with Greg sitting on them.

“Get up, get up, get up, get up,” Greg chanted, bouncing in time with each “up.”

“He's not going to stop, pilgrim.” Dipper nuzzled his neck, unable to suppress his laughter. “There is no later on Christmas.”

This time it was a whine that was muffled. “But I’m tired,” he complained sleepily, lifting his head to blink blearily at his cruel boyfriend siding with his cruel brother. “You kept me up late with kisses.”

“You can take a nap later,” Greg attempted at compromise.

“How ‘bout a nap now.” Wirt closed his eyes.

“How about waking up now?” Dipper brushed smiling kisses to his cheeks. “I'll carry you downstairs. Don't think I won't.”

That got his eyes to open, concern knitting his brow. “You can’t.” He rolled onto his back, angling himself towards Dipper again. “You’ll drop me.” He nodded, eyelids drifting shut while Greg giggled at how sure he sounded.

“Wow. That's just mean.” Dipper huffed, though his attempts to be offended were dashed by amusement. “I think I should try and prove him wrong. What do you think, shortstop?”

“Yeah!” Greg cheered, throwing both hands in the air. “Pick him up! I want to see!”

“No,” Wirt protested, scrunching up into a tighter ball. “You’re the ones being mean. Is it even six o’clock yet?”

“Uh.” Dipper rolled, glancing at the clock on his nightstand. “It's close enough. So come on. You can nap after presents.”

“Well, presents, breakfast, and then we have to call Mom and Dad and wish them a merry Christmas.” Greg listed off, counting on his fingers. “Then play with our presents for a little bit, then you can take a nap. Unless it’s lunch time.”

Wirt sighed, casting his brother a weary look before shifting to give Dipper his most pleading look. “Just half an hour. Can I just have half an hour more?”

“Half an hour is a whole two episodes of Doc McStuffins!”

“Please, Dipper.”

Christmas excitement warred with simple adoration for his sleepy boyfriend. “What if you just came down to the couch? You can lay down then while we get everything together? Come on, Wirt.” Dipper leaned down, coaxingly rubbing their lips together. “I want Christmas morning with my very sweet boyfriend.”

Wirt puffed out his cheeks in a small pout, then sighed. “It’ll still be Christmas morning in half an hour,” he grumbled, but uncurled and sat up nonetheless. “The presents aren’t going anywhere.”

“Nope! But we are. To the Christmas tree!” Greg stood up on the bed and pointed to the door, then leapt to the floor and hurried out. “C’mon, slowpokes!”

“We'll be down in a minute,” Dipper assured him, grinning. He pressed another kiss to Wirt’s pout. “I'll let you sleep in as long as you want tomorrow, I promise.”

“Mm. Alright. You’re probably lying, but you’re cute enough that I don’t care.” Wirt’s lips followed Dipper’s, chasing another kiss. He missed, but didn’t let that deter him as he kissed along his jaw before lowering his head to his shoulder. “You have to get up first. I’m trapped.”

“So trapped. If I didn't already know that Greg’ll be right back here with Mabel in tow, I'd keep you here.” Dipper laughed, shimmying out of bed and holding out his hand for his boyfriend. “Come on, boyfriend of mine. Your cute pouty face needs some Christmas cheer.”

“And you’re the one who’s going to bring it to me?” Wirt raised an eyebrow, then stretched out his back and bit back a yawn as he took Dipper’s hand. He surveyed him playfully, leaving their hands linked even after he was standing. “I can live with that,” he inevitably decided, kissing the tip of Dipper’s nose next. “Merry Christmas.”

He had to bite back a giggle, hiding his smile by pressing his face against the curve of Wirt’s neck. “Merry Christmas. Come on. I'll turn on the tea kettle for you.”

“My hero,” Wirt sighed happily, letting his boyfriend lead them out and down the stairs.

Greg stood proudly by as they entered the living room, showing them off to Mabel with his chest puffed out as if it was all thanks to him that they were there. Which was mostly true. Wirt scooped him up and tossed him onto the couch, the seven-year-old giggling as he then proceeded to “flop” on top of him, keeping the brunt of his weight off him so it was just enough to have him laughing and squirming.

“Mutiny!” Greg accused.

“Given that I’m the captain, I’m pretty sure this isn’t a mutiny,” Wirt told him.

“Oh.”

“Abuse of power,” Mabel supplied with a laugh, Dipper disappearing into the kitchen to keep his word.

“Older brother privileges,” Wirt countered, glancing up to smile at her. “And you benefit from older sister privileges, Mabel, so you can’t argue about that.”

“You’re the worst,” Greg complained, though he was still giggling.

“You deserve it for waking me up before six.”

“It's only a little before six,” Mabel defended. “Greg even beat me awake.”

“That's a miracle.” Dipper returned, grinning at the half-brothers. “You know, when I said you could lay down on the couch, this isn't what I meant.”

“I’m sorry, what did you mean?” Wirt asked, craning his neck back to find him.

“More lazy grump and less brother torture.”

“Brother torture!” Mabel cheered, grabbing her twin in a headlock.

“Mabel!”

“Noogie, noogie, noogie!”

“It’s actually pretty comfy under here,” Greg remarked. “It’s like a big brother blanket!”

Wirt grinned, watching his boyfriend succumb to Mabel’s ‘torture.’ “Pretty sure blankets aren’t typically considered torture weapons. But wait a second, why do you want me grumpy?”

“Grump.” Greg poked Wirt’s cheeks.

“Well, I didn't say I _want_ you to be grumpy. I just-” Dipper squeaked when fingers dug into his ribs. “ _Mabel_!”

She laughed, holding fast while he tried to wiggle free. “Christmas tickles, bro-bro! They're necessary!”

“Very necessary!” Greg agreed. “Get him, Mabel!”

“Oh my gosh.” Wirt shook his head, sheer delight filling the smile that spread across his face. “Is this another Christmas tradition?”

“No!” Dipper yelped even while his twin giggled a “yes!”

Dipper managed to break free, red-faced and winded. “I hate you,” he panted.

Beaming, Mabel placed her hands on her hips. “Success!”

“Tickled into submission!” Greg cheered. “Good work, general! That’s how wars are won!”

Wirt laughed, sitting up - and freeing his younger brother in the process - to reach for Dipper. “Oh, my poor boyfriend. Come here.”

Dipper gave his twin a wide berth to join Wirt, snuggling against his side. “She's a cheater.”

“You earned it,” Mabel teased.

“What did he do to earn that?” Wirt asked, coddling Dipper with both arms wrapped around him.

Mabel sighed, dramatically gazing into the distance. “A lifetime of just being Dipper.”

He scoffed, but had to tuck his face into the curve of Wirt’s neck to hide his smile. “Boyfriend, she's being mean to me.”

“I know, boyfriend. And on Christmas, too.” Wirt rubbed his back, turning his head so his lips could brush his cheek. “Here, let me give you what I think you’ve earned for a lifetime of just being Dipper.” Wirt began to pepper his face with kisses, holding him close as he showered him in affection.

Mabel beamed, delighted by her twin’s barely concealed giggling. They were both too adorable. “Come on, Greg. As cute as our waffles are, I'm about ready for presents!”

“I’ve been ready!” Greg placed his hand over his chest, like making a solemn vow, then grabbed Mabel’s hand to keep her close as they infiltrates the impenetrable fortress of presents.

“Shouldn’t we wait for your parents?” Wirt asked, glancing over at them.

“Technically, yeah. But we can look at our stockings. Dad won't come down before seven anyway.” Dipper nuzzled him, happy to be close.

Mabel gasped. “Oh, I forgot! Wirt and Greg have stockings!”

“Of course we have stockings. Santa wouldn’t let us go without stockings.” Greg hopped and skipped over to where the stockings were hung. “Wow. There’s so much inside! Want me to bring yours and Wirt’s, Dipper?”

“Sounds good to me.” Dipper grinned, sharing a look with his twin. Both knew this was likely their mother's idea and both were delighted that she'd thought of it. “Don't eat your candy before breakfast this year.”

“Pssh. I can eat some candy,” Mabel protested, taking Wirt’s stocking when it started to tilt in Greg’s hold. “Here you go, honorary brother! Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, Mabel.” He was a little flustered that their parents had taken the time and money to get them stockings, but it was Christmas and Greg looked delighted by the handful of candy he pulled out of his stocking after Dipper’s was safely delivered, so he couldn’t find it in himself to protest. “Thank you.”

She winked. “Thank Santa.” Smile bright, she whirled and swung Greg up for a giddy twirl that ended with her seated on the floor with him on her lap. “Dump it, baby! Let's see what treasures you got!”

Dipper shook his head, smile tugging at his lips. “When we were little, Mabel used to tear through her presents before waking anyone up and then pout while everyone else opened gifts. That's why stockings were okayed, so she'd have something to tear into.”

“Sometimes I'd open Dipper’s too. Being helpful.”

“Pssh.”

Wirt knocked his shoulder against Dipper’s. “Did she tickle you and eat all your candy when you were little?”

“Have you met her? She still does, man.” Dipper snorted.

“That's rude. Telling such truths.” Mabel squealed a laugh when he chucked a candy at her.

“It’s also rude to steal candy without permission,” Greg replied wisely.

“But stealing with permission is fine?” Wirt raised an eyebrow, lips quirked in amusement.

“Yes.”

“Well, Greg has spoken.” Wirt let the fingers of one hand trace along Dipper’s side gently, the other delving into the stocking to rummage around.

Dipper tipped his head onto Wirt's shoulder. “You can steal my candy if you want to.”

“Yeah?” Wirt’s grin grew as the soft strokes stilled, the pause only a moment before he danced them over his stomach. “Can I tickle you, too?”

He gasped, stomach muscles jumping as he squirmed. “Oh my god, no.”

“You sure?” Wirt pressed in a little firmer.

“Wirt!” Dipper bit back a giggle, shifting away from his torturous touch. “Don't, seriously!”

“That… doesn’t sound too convincing.” Wirt scooted closer, draping one leg over Dipper’s to pin him as tried to coax a full laugh out of him.

“Get him, Wirt!” Greg cheered.

“Woo!” Grinning, Mabel left her stocking alone to watch.

Dipper shook his head, giggles smothered by his hand as he wriggled fruitlessly. “That's not- Wirt!”

With a laugh of his own, Wirt stopped his attack and leaned over to kiss the back of his hand. “I’m sorry, you’re just so cute.”

“You’re a jerk,” he accused, cheeks pink and eyes bright.

“I love you.” He grinned, wrinkling his nose. “Would you feel better if I gave you my candy?”

“Pssh. No. See if I share with you now.” Dipper stuck out his tongue.

“What if I gave you a kiss?”

“For two, you can have all my candy.”

Wirt hummed, unable to keep the corners of his mouth from quirking up. “That’s reasonable, as long as your forgiveness is included.”

“That might take three.” Dipper grinned, tugging Wirt closer. “Maybe four if I'm feeling greedy. Which, y’know, I'm starting to feel a little greedy.”

“Of course you are. Luckily it’s Christmas and I’m feeling particularly generous right now.” Wirt drew him into the first of the four requested kisses.

“Careful, brother o’ mine, he might make it five if you’re too generous,” Greg advised as he sorted the contents of his stocking.

Mabel giggled, slipping candies into his piles. “I think Wirt might make it five all by himself.”

Dipper hoped for just that, letting a giggle spill into their second kiss only because he knew his boyfriend liked the embarrassing sound.

Wirt ignored Mabel and Greg in favor of stubbornly kissing the heck out of Dipper, heart giving a giddy little leap as he tried to coax more of those giggles in a way Dipper actively enjoyed. He'd keep it to four, but they’d be four good ones.

It was hard to kiss back when he was laughing, so Dipper muffled the sounds against Wirt’s neck. “I really love you.”

“I really love you, too.” Wirt was beaming, snuggled up against him as he pressed one last kiss to the top of his head before patting his side. “C’mon, find out what you have in your stocking. It’s Christmas.”

“I know, I know. It's basically the same stuff every year.” Dipper upturned it, candy and little odds and ends spilling out. He picked up a plastic container holding deck of cards, turning it over. “Yeah. Crazy eights. You probably got old maid or something.”

“You trying to say I look like the kind of person who plays old maid?” Wirt grinned, reaching into his stocking and carefully picking out each candy and tiny gift one by one.

“If it is old maid, that's Santa’s fault. Not mine.”

Mabel laughed. “I got old maid, Dipper. Greg got jacks!”

“I got rummy.” Wirt held up his deck. “Cool, I’ve never played.”

“We can if you want to. We've still got time to kill before we wake up mom and dad.”

“I want to play!” Greg piped up, already engrossed in round three of jacks.

“Then we should absolutely play!”

Dipper slid from the couch less than gracefully, joining their siblings on the floor. “Come on, pilgrim. There should be a little card in there with instructions.”

Wirt opened the package as he settled more carefully on the floor beside his boyfriend. “Okay, I think this is it,” he hummed as he unfolded a small piece of paper and skimmed it. “Looks like we start with seven cards each, a stock pile, and a discard pile. Object of the game is to… aha. ‘To form matched sets consisting of groups of three or four of a kind, or sequences of three or more cards of the same suit.’ Sounds easy enough.”

“But these cards aren’t wearing suits,” Greg observed with furrowed brow. “I think they missed the memo.”

The twins laughed, Mabel ruffling his hair fondly. “They're a different kind of suit, baby. Hearts, spades, clubs, and diamonds - those are different suits in cards.”

“Oh.” His eyes rounded with understanding as he picked up a Jack. “Can I be diamonds?”

Wirt chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s not how it works, Greg. But you can try and see if you can get as many diamond cards in order as possible.”

“That sounds just as good.” Greg gave him a thumbs up. “I’m in.”

Dipper grinned, holding out his hand for the cards. “Can I shuffle?”

Wirt blinked, then nodded, handing over the deck. “Oh- yeah. Okay, sure.”

“You’re going to show off,” Mabel predicted.

Dipper scoffed, cutting the deck in half. “I would never,” he lied, thumbs deftly controlling the deck as he shuffled. “It's not like a conman has spent three summers teaching me how to stack a deck and always guarantee that perfect royal flush.” He tossed the five cards down in order without looking at his hands, and winked at his boyfriend before gathering the cards back up.

Wirt tried not to be impressed, lips pressed together firmly, but Dipper was very good at showing off when he wanted to be. Unable to hide his smile, lovestruck and all, he glanced down at Dipper's hands to watch him reshuffle the deck. “Just- no conartistry during this game. Let’s play fair to start.”

Dipper knocked their shoulders together. “Just to start? So after the first round, I can cheat?”

“Well, I figure after the first round I no longer have any control over what either of you do.” He glanced meaningfully between Dipper and Mabel.

Their matching, innocent smiles were anything but innocent, though it quickly dissolved into laughter. “We won't cheat,” Mabel promised.

“Well, we might, but it won’t be for our benefit.”

“Not with you guys.”

“Yeah. Just, y’know, don't be too surprised if Greg ends up with all the diamonds.”

“Woah, really?” Greg’s eyes rounded in awe.

Wirt snorted. “With great power comes great responsibility. Mind your devil hands and their magic shuffling skills.”

“Okay, okay. I have to behave this round, Greg, but we'll see what happens next time.” He dealt in the same quick way he shuffled, randomizing the tosses rather than going in order and quietly keeping track until they each had seven.

Mabel only giggled. “Never play poker with us.”

“Trust me, I decided that months ago,” Wirt replied, glancing at his hand. “I would like to see you up against Sara and Trevor, though.”

“Next time we're in Lakeville, city of lakes, I'm in.”

“Same!” Mabel grinned. “Wirt, you can be Dipper’s cute cheerleader.”

Dipper snorted, sorting his hand by suit. “As cute as he is, no. I'll happily teach you some tricks, though. That could actually be fun.”

“Oh, um. I don’t know if I’d be any good. Cards were never my thing, so I don’t know how fun it be to teach me,” Wirt chuckled, rubbing his neck as he glanced at his boyfriend.

Greg sorted his by favorites. “Are they magic card tricks? And can I learn them, too?”

“Mabel knows more magic tricks than me. I know things that'll get you kicked out of Vegas.”

“Now _that_ was a fun trip.” Mabel didn’t bother sorting her cards at all, setting them aside to playfully ruffle Greg’s hair. “I'll teach you some magic, baby, and Dipper can teach you poker when you're older and have a better poker face than Wirt.”

“Oh my god, can you even imagine him with a royal flush? Everyone would know to fold immediately.” Dipper knocked their shoulders together. “I mean, I love you, but oh my god.”

Wirt’s cheeks puffed out, a small frown knitting his eyebrows together. “No. Not- not everyone would know. I can have a poker face.” He pressed his palm over his chest.

The twins exchanged glances, one holding his giggle at bay better than the other. “Right, yeah. So gin rummy.”

“Hmph.” Still moderately unimpressed, Wirt looked back at his hand and rearranged it a bit. “Well, guess we decide who goes first. Do we want to go with youngest first and clockwise from there?”

“I like that rule!” Greg raises his hand and waved it about. “What do I do first?”

“Um… you draw a card from the stock pile, then see if you’ve got three or four of a kind, it looks like.” Wirt squinted at the instructions. “So, like… if you have a Jack, Queen, and King of the same thing, diamonds or hearts or whatever.”

“Easy-peasy,” was Mabel’s opinion. “How do you win?”

“By getting the most points.” Wirt turned the instructions so she could see. “It says what everything’s worth here. And looks like getting a rummy doubles your points. You can call rummy if you’re able to put down all of the cards in your hand in one go.”

“I want to do that.” Greg nodded to himself. “I’ll get all the rummy.”

Dipper hummed, biting his lip to hold back his smile. “Good luck, shortstop.”

“Oh my gosh, you cheated,” Mabel realized.

“No way. I was told not to. Any diamonds Greg gets and currently has are totally coincidental, and I was absolutely not banking on him getting to go first.”

“Rummy!” Greg cried out, throwing all of his cards to the floor.

After a snort, and a quick glance at the cards he’d placed down, Wirt shook his head. “They have to be in order, Greg. So the two, three, and four work, but your six, seven, Jack, and King don’t.” Even if they were all the same suit. “And the card you just drew is spades, so it doesn’t belong with the others.”

“Oh.” Greg picked up the ones Wirt had listed. “Okay. Mabel’s turn!”

She shook her head, drawing a card. A set of three clubs were laid down. “You’re not allowed to shuffle next time. I'll do it.”

“So Greg can win twice?”

“I would never,” she lied, the twins exchanging wicked grins.

“Oh my gosh, I’m shuffling next time.” Wirt shook his head, going next and drawing a heart card to go with his many heart cards. Even if it was just a suit, their meaning was quite clear and his cheeks still flushed lightly and he bounced his knee against Dipper’s as he laid down his own set. “You’re impossible.”

“Maybe, but you love me.” Dipper leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Merry Christmas.”

Wirt turned his head and leaned after him to catch his lips with his own. “A very merry Christmas.”

“And a happy New Year!” Greg cheered.

“We can have a new year after presents.” Mabel beamed, wrapping an arm around Greg to give him a firm squeeze.

“After the game,” Dipper reminded her. His rigging guaranteed a fast round anyway, Greg and Wirt coming in first and second respectively, then Mabel with Dipper bringing up the rear. It was one loss at cards he could accept easily, Greg and Mabel’s glances towards the tree and the brightly wrapped paper growing in frequency.

“Seven!” Mabel squealed as Dipper was shuffling the deck to put back into the case. “We've got some parents to wake up!”

“Presents! Brr-brr-brr-brr brr-brrrrrrp!” Greg made sounds like a bugle blowing as he hopped up off the floor. “Charge!”

While their siblings grew rowdier, Wirt leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes. “Sounds good. You guys do that, I’ll take a nap.”

Dipper snuggled beside him. “It'll be a short one. Water’s probably plenty hot for your tea by now.”

“Oh yeah. Should probably get that, huh?” Wirt leaned into Dipper, their heads coming to rest together while Wirt looped an arm around Dipper’s waist.

“Mmhm.” Dipper smiled, perfectly content to stay right where he was. “Or nap. Just for a few minutes.”

“You have the best ideas. I ever tell you that?” Wirt nuzzled him, turning his head just enough to press his lips to Dipper’s neck. “Love you and your brain.”

“Love you and your everything.” Dipper kissed the top of his head, enjoying the temporary quiet of their first Christmas together.

Wirt cracked one eye open to peer up at him. “You turning this into some kind of contest?”

“Mm-mm. It's just a long list, so I figured I'd sum it up so you can sleep, Mr. Suspicious,” Dipper teased.

“Mm… okay.” Wirt accepted that and let his eye close again. “Just as long as you’re not trying to out-boyfriend me.”

“I wouldn’t do that while you were half-asleep,” Dipper promised, nuzzling him fondly.

“Not half-asleep.” Not yet anyway. Wirt toyed with Dipper’s pajama top, opening his eyes as he heard the tell-tale thumps of Mabel and Greg through the ceiling and the sound of footsteps heading towards the bathroom. It was only a matter of time. “Open my gift first. I mean, if- if you want to, that is. Yeah. Oh, and Mom and Jonathan got gifts for you guys, too, just so you know. So be on the lookout for those.”

“Okay. You have to open mine first too.” He rubbed his cheek against his hair. “I love you, pilgrim.”

“I love you too.” Wirt lifted his head to press his lips to the corner of Dipper’s mouth, then straightened up and stretched. “I’m gonna get that tea now. Might as well be prepared for when they come back. You want anything?”

“Orange juice, but I'll come with you. I've gotta grab some trash bags for wrapping paper.” Dipper rose, holding his hands out to help his boyfriend up. “Plus, somebody's gotta make sure you don't fall asleep standing in the kitchen.”

Wirt rolled his eyes as he took both hands. “I’m pretty much awake for real now. All the excitement of stockings and presents and first Christmas with my boyfriend kind of makes it impossible for me to fall back asleep now.” When he was steady on his feet, he leaned in and pecked Dipper’s lips with another quick kiss. “It’s our first Christmas together,” he murmured like it was a secret.

“It won’t be our last.” He had too much love in him for this to be it. “Let's get our drinks and be semi-responsible before our siblings take over.”

“Alright, admiral.”

A mug and glass were fetched, and Wirt had just poured a drop of milk into his tea when Greg and Mabel paraded down the stairs, the Pines parents just behind them. Wirt cradled his warm mug with both hands, inhaling the sweet aroma that wafted up with the steam. He savored that second before Greg noticed Dipper’s orange juice and lit up. The older brother switched his hold on the cup to one hand so he could grab Greg his own glass and pour him some orange juice.

“Do you want any, Mabel?” he asked while the carton was still out.

“Absolutely! Mom and dad, too. We have a Christmas toast to make and presents to open and-”

“Mabel, sweetheart, one thing at a time,” Laura cautioned.

“Christmas is one thing. One great big, fantastic thing that's amazing!”

“Dipper, honey, did you get trash bags?”

“Yeah, mom.” He balled three of them up, taking two of the cups Wirt poured and offering them to her. “Dad’s on the couch?”

“Mmhm. We'll start breakfast right after everything’s opened.”

“French toast!” Mabel cheered.

“Yeah!” Greg joined in.

Wirt put away the orange juice once everyone had a glass, then followed Mabel and Greg back into the living room. With Mr. Pines on the couch, Wirt didn’t quite have the nerve to sit down in front of it like he’d been before with Dipper, so he edged closer to the tree, sitting next to Greg on the floor. Presents were being sorted by recipient, both Mabel and Greg picking what they could to pass around.

After handing one of the bags to his dad, Dipper sank down beside his boyfriend and kissed his cheek. “Here, Mabes.”

“I'll deal with that later. My brilliant partner and I are on a sorting mission.”

“Yeah! Here are your presents, Dipper!” Greg pushed some of the ones for him his way. “Looks like a good haul this year! You must’ve been really good.”

Wirt draped his arm around Dipper’s waist. “That’s not a surprise to me.”

“Wirt! Here’s one for you from Mabel!” A present was tossed at him and smacked him in the chest, only because it was soft and squishy underneath all the wrapping paper.

Still didn’t stop Wirt from his little gasp of horror as it came flying at him. “Thanks, Greg…”

The twins laughed, Mabel ruffling Greg’s hair. “Be careful with your throwing, baby. Christmas presents should always be handled with care,” she advised before Laura had a chance to work out how to scold a child that wasn't hers with a minimum of hurt feelings.

“Even Mabel’s obvious presents,” Dipper teased, grinning when she stuck her tongue out at him.

“Okay.” Greg nodded, genuinely apologetic as he looked to his brother. “Sorry, Wirt.”

“It’s fine, Greg. Just, um, don’t do it again and say sorry to Mabel. She might’ve had something else in here not as soft, you know?”

Greg’s eyes rounded. “That’s true. Anything can happen on Christmas. I’m sorry, Mabel.”

“It's okay, my elephant friend.” She dropped a kiss to the top of his head, and plucked up a box. “Oh my gosh, this one's just for you, baby, and straight from Santa. Hm.” It took her a moment, but Wirt’s was quickly located. “Aha! It is absolutely a holly jolly Christmas.”

“It is, indeed. Thanks, Mabel.” Wirt took it when it was offered, trying not to obviously search for his boyfriend’s present amidst the others.

“I wonder what Santa got me this year!” Greg smoothed his hands over the wrapping paper, wiggling in his excitement to just tear into it, but held himself back as he waited for the go ahead to start opening, as well as for the rest of the Mystery Best Friends to get their presents together.

“We'll find out soon,” Dipper promised, reaching over him to help his twin sort out the gifts and get their parents their wrapped packages.

When everyone had their respective presents, Greg wormed his way between Mabel and Dipper. He beamed at them both, surprising Wirt with his own restraint as he waited for a go-ahead of some sort. “Mabel, you should go first, ‘cause you’re the general. Leading the way to victory!”

Dipper scoffed playfully, Mabel reaching over Greg to shove her twin. “Daddy, can we? Presents time!”

Michael waved them on, even though Laura opened her mouth to protest. They'd skipped a few steps in their normal routine. “Go ahead, kids. Use your trash bags.”

“Woo!” Mabel cheered. “But which one first?” She danced her fingers over one that was well-wrapped and messy on the other, a joint effort from the half-brothers and a “From: Greg” sticker mostly hidden by the bow. “Maaaaybe this one. What do you think, corporal?”

“Yeah! Yeah, do that one first!” Greg was practically beside himself with excitement as he bounced, squirming closer to her to have the best view for when she opened it. “I picked it out myself and almost bought it all by myself! Wirt helped a little ‘cause I had to buy Dipper’s gift, too and Old Lady Daniels’s chores money only goes so far, but it was mostly me.”

“It was pretty much all you, Greg,” Wirt assured him.

“I believe it,” Mabel promised, opening the obvious Greg side while her twin searched his pile for the gifts from Wirt and Greg. He paused when she gasped, opening the slim box to reveal a necklace on a silver chain. But it was the charm on the end that excited her - a set of gemstones artfully arranged into the image of a chubby pink pig. “It's Waddles, the necklace! Oh, baby Greg, I love it!” She tucked an arm around him for a tight squeeze.

“I saw it in the store and thought, ‘that’s the perfect Christmas present for Mabel!’ so I had to get. You really like it?” Greg’s arms wrapped around her middle to hug back.

“I love it! I'll wear it right now.” Grinning, she unattached the chain and slipped it around her neck to quickly clasp it. “How does it look?”

Dipper held up his phone to snap her picture. “Pretty good.”

“It’s like it was made for you!” Greg admired, then pumped his fist in the air. “Pig power! Okay, who wants to go next?”

“I think Greg does.” The twins grinned at one another, Dipper poking his side teasingly. “What'd Santa get you, shortstop?”

Greg looked to Wirt for permission, beaming when he received the go-ahead and tore into his gift with gusto. Eyes wide and grin even more so, it took a moment for it to really sink in. His gasp of wonder and delight was quickly eclipsed by a laugh as he hugged what appeared to be a briefcase with a colorful label plastered on the front.

“It’s just what I wanted! My very own magician’s kit!” He lifted it up above his head for the teens to see. “Look, Wirt! Mr. Magician’s Magic Mix. Full of one hundred different magic tricks! Oh boy. This combined with my magic snow makes one hundred and _one_ magic tricks! Mabel, Dipper, can we put on a magic show while we’re here. Please? Can we?”

“Absolutely!” Mabel cheered. “We'll record it for your mom and dad. It'll be beautiful.”

Dipper ruffled his hair. “Yeah, man. It'd be fun.”

Greg giggled, setting the box back down in his lap. “It comes with a hat. Now all I need is a magician’s cape and I’ll be all set.”

Mabel beamed. “A magician’s cape, huh?”

“Here, Greg. Open this one, too. It's from Mabel.”

“Are you sure I get to open another?” Greg asked, glancing between Dipper, Wirt, and Michael and Laura. “You still have to open something.”

“We will, don’t worry, Greg.” Wirt nodded at Mabel’s gift to him.

“Yeah,” Dipper encouraged. “Just go ahead. I'll go next.”

“Okay.” It was all the permission he needed to see what Mabel had gotten for him. “Woah! Mabel, can you predict the future?” Greg asked as he opened a green cape, very similar to Wirt’s own navy blue one, except smaller in scale and a pair of frog mittens that he was instantly admiring. “Thank you! It’s just what I wanted again!”

It had been nothing more than an accident, but Mabel leaned down to kiss his cheek. “It's Christmas magic.”

“Woah… yeah! I bet it is!” Greg grinned up at her before launching himself into another hug. “Thanks, Mabel. I love you.”

She held him tightly, relieved that he liked his gift and so very giddy to have him and his brother there for the holiday. “I love you too. You're the best little brother in the whole world.”

“Aw, shucks. Only ‘cause you’re the best big sister in the whole world,” Greg replied as he snuggled close for a second longer before breaking away to actually fasten his cape around his neck. “Your turn, Dipper. You said so.”

“Yeah, Dipper.” Wirt bumped his shoulder. “You did say so.”

Dipper shrugged, toying with a corner of wrapping paper. It surprised him to have two from his boyfriend, even though Wirt had two from him beneath the tree in turn. “Does it matter which one I open first?”

Wirt shook his head, anticipation suddenly spiking right into nerves and he was squirming as he glanced at the two presents wrapped so carefully. He hadn’t been with Dipper when he’d opened his presents on his birthday, only heard about it over the phone. He was nervous now, of what Dipper might think about what he picked out for him for their first Christmas together.

Dipper kissed his cheek, snuggling closer to his side before peeling back the paper. He did try to be careful about it, but Christmas excitement had wormed its way in, and he was soon tearing into it. He lifted the lid of the box, gasping when he found a telescope. Eyes wide, he picked up the leather bound item, fascinated by the stitching on the side, and lifted it to his eye to see if it even worked. “This is so cool.”

“I just- I saw it in the thrift store and I thought it might be something you’d like and it- I don’t know. It made me think of you, so I- you like it?” Wirt finally got out, cutting himself off before he made a bigger fool of himself in front of Mr. and Mrs. Pines.

“Yeah! I like that it comes with a stand, too. I'll totally put it on my desk.” Dipper closed it carefully before brushing their lips together. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied, relishing the tingles the kiss inspired as he smiled at him.

“Are you gonna open the other one now, too?” Greg asked.

“Yeah, but you'll figure out when you're older that you always go for a kiss when you have the chance to.” Dipper grinned, plucking up the second gift. The telescope was carefully returned to its box.

A light flush colored Wirt’s cheeks. “You know you don’t have to wait for chances…”

“Yeah. Wirt would let you kiss him any time,” Greg laughed, then shook his head. “But _I_ won’t be kissing people. That’s gross.”

Giggling, Mabel ruffled his hair. “You think that as long as you want, baby. But if you ever do get that crazy urge, you have to tell me so I can make sure whoever you want to kiss is worthy.”

Dipper rolled his eyes, but was unable to resist stealing another kiss from his boyfriend. “You’re apparently worthy since she doesn't object to me kissing you.”

“Dipper, please, you’re the one who needs to be worthy of Wirt.”

“Oh my god.”

Wirt cupped his cheek and kissed the other. “Trust me, you’re plenty worthy or Greg wouldn’t allow you near me with a ten foot pole.”

“It’s true!” Greg piped up.

“So go ahead and open your present and maybe we can kiss again later,” Wirt told him with a small laugh.

“Okay, okay.”

“You act like opening presents is such a hassle,” Mabel teased, busy fingers digging into the gifts from her parents.

“It's not, shut up.” They stuck their tongues out at one another before Dipper opened his second gift. He didn’t quite know what it was at first, the kit not something he'd seen before, but his eyes widened and heart swelled when he realized what the gift was for. The kit was a light that would shine stars indoors. For the nights he felt trapped inside, he could bring the stars into his room.

He looked up at his boyfriend, heart in his eyes. “I really, seriously love you.”

With equal adoration, Wirt leaned against him, their shoulders and knees pressed close. “I really, seriously love you, too. Merry Christmas.” He pressed a kiss to his brow, heart full and warm with love for Dipper.

“Merry Christmas, pilgrim.” He wanted to open his gift right away and start putting it together, wondering if he could change the star patterns. “You've gotta open yours now.”

“Okay. Same question to you, does it matter what I open first?” he asked as Greg handed him both before shifting his attention to watch Mabel unveil her gifts.

“I guess, um, the smaller one first. It's- yeah. The smaller one.”

Wirt nodded, peeling back the wrapping to uncover whatever his boyfriend picked out for him first, his embarrassment not going unnoticed and piquing Wirt’s interest with the way his cheeks pinkened. His eyes lit up as he found himself holding a small basket, one that Dipper clearly put together himself, with a variety of things nestled inside. There was a small, white teapot with roman numerals painted around it, at an angle so that they were a little off-center, like a clock, complete with minute and hour hands and little gold dots marking the minutes in between. There was an infuser inside it, for loose leaf tea, and Wirt could see why it was included as there was a box of a loose leaf Writer’s Blend tea to go with it. That alone was enough to have him beaming, but the waterproof notepad completed the package perfectly and he was laughing as he reached for Dipper to pull him into a tight hug.

“This is amazing,” he told him as he nuzzled him. “I love it, it’s so perfect.”

Dipper smiled, still embarrassed but pleased. “There’s kind of an accidental theme. Like, I had a totally different teapot picked out but they were out of stock by the time I was able to actually get it, and... well, this one's better. Just open the other one.”

“I can’t imagine what else you got me. This already seems like more than enough.”

But Wirt still opened the larger gift, wondering what the teapot had in common with it and his heart stuttered as he discovered what it was. It was a clock, but not just any clock. It was a clock with two faces, three hours differentiating the two. Eastern Standard Time and Pacific. For Lakeville and Piedmont respectively.

“Oh my gosh,” he breathed. “Did you…?” His fingers stroked over the almost perfectly smooth wood, but some of the bumps in the grain led him to believe that it was in fact handmade. “Did you make this?”

“Um. That depends on whether or not you like it.”

Wirt shoved him, guarding the clock from his boyfriend as if his words would offend it. “Of course I like it! And if you made it that makes me like it that much more, you jerk.”

Dipper shrugged, smile sheepish. “Yeah, I made it. I couldn't find one that I liked, so I got my hands on some pine wood, gears, and put it together.”

“Pine- I love you. Even if you’re impossible.” Wirt pulled him in to press a firm kiss to his lips. “I love you so much. I can’t believe you made me a clock.”

“I love you too. I'll mail it to you if it doesn't fit in your suitcase.” Dipper wrapped his arms around him, returning the kiss. “So I've never made a clock before. It was fun.”

“Yeah? You’ll have to tell me all about it. I’m curious.” He snuggled close, admiring the little details carved into the wood, Dipper’s initials marked on the back of the clock as proof of creation. “It’s really well done. Is there anything you can’t do?” he teased. “Besides cook, that is.”

The list that tore through his mind was a litany of faults he'd been criticized over for years, the rush so unexpected and painful on a cheerful Christmas morning that he briefly toyed with the notion that they weren't his thoughts. Rather than voice them, he let his lips curve and shoulders rise and fall in a casual shrug. “Give me some tools, time, and science, and I can make pretty much anything.”

“Not to mention inspiration and a pencil,” Wirt hummed, recalling the little “love letters” he’d written in the journal he’d given him for his birthday and the sketches that not only littered it as well, but his paranormal journals, too. “I’m not kidding when I say you’re the total package. _My_ total package.”

Dipper huffed, bringing their lips together again. The rest of his gifts didn't matter nearly as much as the two he'd just opened, his Christmas an absolute success. “You’re mine right back.”

“I think I can live with that.” Wirt’s gaze was filled nothing but pure adoration - giddy, lovestruck adoration - as he shared in Dipper’s sentiments. It really was a perfect Christmas.

“Stop kissing so Dipper can open my present next!” Greg demanded.

Well, practically perfect, anyway, Wirt reflected as Greg wormed his way between the two of them to make sure Dipper didn’t miss the gift he’d so painstakingly picked out. But if the biggest problem on their Christmas was a wiggly little brother getting in the way of kisses and a huggable sister stealing him away from his boyfriend, then it really wasn’t much of a problem at all. If anything, it made it even more perfect. It made it home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas!
> 
> Just so you all know, there is one extra little one-shot that takes place during this winter break for Mystery Best Friends posted on our tumblr pages (skimmingmilk and syl-writes-stuff) that takes a look at a sick Dipper. We thought about including it in this, but it didn't seem to fit since we wrote both at very different times (sick Dipper was probably about a year ago now whereas this was just finished a few weeks ago). Anyway, feel free to check that out!
> 
> Thanks for reading and stay tuned for two more MBF side stories!


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